The Yughoshi
S'elothotha Cystho : The Grand Cathedral of Cystho
The heart of the Yughosi was the Cathedral of Cystho, or S'elothotha Cystho as most of the moguliloth-tongued ones referred to it was more of a command structure than a spiritual construct. It was massive, possessing hundreds of rooms, alcoves and twisting corridors that labyrinthed inwards to the main structure. Like a clandestine house of worship, towering atrium, crowned choirs and criss-crossing transepts that bore stained-glass window structures with decorative stone tracery that allowed in light from the upper array to pierce the interior between branching arches of black waxy carapace like walls. Massive naves and aisles directed towards the main Altar-structure referred to as the 'Seat of Cystho' that sat beneath a massive pendentive held dome. The presbytery-floor was reserved for only the highest ranked members of the Amuin Congress and those who were invited. The Altar, or throne precipice was elevated off the floor which could be reached by winding staircases on either side of the massive solid-state volumetrics that displayed real-time territorial claims within the annexed Unyian and Ryuuesi Spirals.
S'elothotha Cystho : The Grand Cathedral of Cystho
The heart of the Yughosi was the Cathedral of Cystho, or S'elothotha Cystho as most of the moguliloth-tongued ones referred to it was more of a command structure than a spiritual construct. It was massive, possessing hundreds of rooms, alcoves and twisting corridors that labyrinthed inwards to the main structure. Like a clandestine house of worship, towering atrium, crowned choirs and criss-crossing transepts that bore stained-glass window structures with decorative stone tracery that allowed in light from the upper array to pierce the interior between branching arches of black waxy carapace like walls. Massive naves and aisles directed towards the main Altar-structure referred to as the 'Seat of Cystho' that sat beneath a massive pendentive held dome. The presbytery-floor was reserved for only the highest ranked members of the Amuin Congress and those who were invited. The Altar, or throne precipice was elevated off the floor which could be reached by winding staircases on either side of the massive solid-state volumetrics that displayed real-time territorial claims within the annexed Unyian and Ryuuesi Spirals.
Tapestries hung from walls showing vivid symbolism of awarded conquests and the shields of the massive military arms of the Umarian Astral Raquamothla. The throne itself was placed within a circle of control monoliths that served as interface ports for Lao'Taun and his staff, the glossy black structures glowed as volumetrics rippled over their surface. Like it had grown upwards from the frame of the Cathedral-itself the throne consisted of twisted outcrops of the same glossy black material with luminescent jade and sapphire accents. Heavy chains attached to the mast-like front of the throne where Lao'Taun often held his parasitically infested puppets prior to the final days of their use.
Lao'Taun sat within the throne, the humanoid form he held one of many metamorphoses that had a habit of deceiving those he encountered, underestimation one of the many tools of his progressively advancing regime. On this particular day, he held a rather unamused look, bored and perhaps even a little annoyed as frame rested slightly at an angle leaning towards the back-right of the throne, arm crooked upon the rest and hand pressed against his cheek. The Raatasi Tlataelat Ushacth (RTU) had begun their silent incursion into the Elysium Spiral with a mission that varied greatly from the rapid and forceful conquests of the proceeding regions. Projected results from sentient space-born biological drones flashed from the monument-like faces of the monoliths and he couldn't of seemed any less interested. It seemed the Lorenzian Norians had some sort of debacle going on, their Citadels were on alert and traffic around the planetary sphere that housed 'Ayenee' had become what he believed to be an organized mess. His hand dropped from his face and he let his head rest within the back corner crevice as he curled his fingers around godsmourn which was sheathed and leaning against the throne. tap tap...He lifted the covered blade and dropped it's tip to the floor over and over. If it was an attack he wanted, it could of been achieved - the weakened fold of Adrin's people was hardly a match for him.
To break them again however would defeat the Raquamothla's purpose, for now it was the survivors and their persistence he sought to assimilate into what was his. To hit them again would only bring extinction, something that he rarely practised even on the most violent of efforts. Cystho, his predecessor and the dead non-humanoid spider-like creature called a Tabotugu, that hung above the main floor of the cathedral had imparted upon him many wisdom and one of the most prized was that the right of leadership in a militaristic galactic nation relied upon the voices who supported it, those who would swallow the medicines of it's nationalism. Unfortunately for Cystho, he also taught that the Celestial Mandate was also determined by the strength and wisdom of the leader. His strength proven foulable when Lao'Taun executed him right below where he now hung. Waiting was a strategic course at times but it was also the most mind numbing, the endowed leader had been suffering the ills of it's boredom for days which had made even the Nyiathians, an aquatic and favorited member of the RTU absent from their tubes that flowed into the Cathedral.
Xantlicha, the new and rather interesting female leader of the Raatasi Tlataelat Ushacth arm had been summoned, suspected for a mission or other matters that were the obvious chatter of the congress as the usual ambitious subjects toyed with agendas that would gain them the same favour. It was unfortunate that she didn't have the same limitations as Chothakek, the cursed creature had some advantages that especially the non-humanoid members could not shine a light to. They had other things to attend to, one of the latest acquisitions of the great leader was one of the guardians, the Esprarthiquayito Uathotho, his infected and lorded over form was currently aiding Lao'Taun's engineers in adapting new dimensional technologies to aide some of the more limited members access to realspace. A marvelous slave made of a fool.
Breath of heaven, hold me together. Darkness ever-breeding.
Xantlicha:
XANTLICHA: Nymphonecrotic- DX-I CTHULHI
Comfort was found in the shadows slithering along her sinful body. The cool, dark embrace of a lovers touch massaging over limbs that did not know what it was like to grow weary or pain, none that any human could grant. Not the type of pain she craved. To be a Umarian woman, she had to endure all the elements, not bitch and whine, or take walks along a beach fused with the radiance of dusks amberesque colours, to have children, to love and nurture them—theirs was more for the conquest, the rise above the rest from the snake pits of those who swam in the murky pools of the lowest forms, the lowest nadirs of their reign. Silent footsteps fell slowly on the cold stone floor as Xantlicha paced back and forth, her lithe fingers grasped at the black satin robes that hugged her endless curves, expressing the discontentment that surged throughout her form... while the bleeding, bruised and battered form of a male rested across the metal of one of her latest contraptions. Where spikes perforated through bone, and the vicious toxins induced by barbs like the pincers of insects.
Turmoil filled her thoughts for even though she was exactly where she wanted to be she didn't have everything. “No doubt some persuasion would help get the truth from him.” Turning to one of the guards that stood to attention at the antechamber door, eyes never moving to worship the female’s form or observe the delectable tortures that awaited her victim. Head cocking to the side as strands of fire tumbled over shoulders, lean figure slanting into a more casual stance; pondering the next course of action, the serum appeared to be less virulent than planned to the young Norian male. "Hmm, how odd! It, squeaks!" Turning to select one of the perfectly honed knives from the surgical table, twisting it in a manner that is caught the volumetric crimson lights causing it to gleam like a sanguine stained smile. Placing the satirical edge of knife beneath the leather tunic, then tauntingly cutting away his vestments before fastening about his body a silken girdle that had been freshly dipped in an acid corrosive only to Norian flesh.
Acid slowly eating at the flesh (one of the many lavish tools at her disposal), fretting his skin with infinite pangs and once again the sweet screams of agony sung through the chamber in high-pitched symphony. Pungent fumes of burning flesh rising into the air with its caustic camphor-sweetness. For this acquisition, initially it had been in regards to the military and governmental infrastructure of the surviving fleets, there was just something bothering her in regards to assuming they were weakened due to the fall of the last Aestaesys. One should never underestimate any opponent even if, they had been broken, what Xantlicha had learned from the many hours of labouring over boring tomes and manuscripts was never question the Lorenzian will for preservation and survival. War had fashioned them, and with each conquest or threat of annihilation they had endured and evolved.
And now, even after they faced extinction, already the remaining nations of Yirune Arm had reformed into what the Commonwealth and the Federation had failed to achieve (bringing together the nations and worlds of Lorenz) and again rebuilding. Not satisfied with just the screams that turned into more animalistic bawling, a sound that ideally should never gutturally evolve out from the throat of a man. Yawning somewhat betwixt the course of the ascending fleshy-vapours and peeling the silken girdle from the abdomen of her victim, moving to the aquariums that housed all forms of arachnids and venomous creatures—various insecta resembling metameric serpents, covered from head to tail with sable hairs like those of a caterpillar.
Verdant eyes infused with hyacinth veins watched with macabre interest, observing these aposematic chilopoda’s entwine themselves tightly about the limbs; and though he fought wildly in revulsion, he could not loosen them with his hands due to being bound by the metal restraints. Fibrous hairs that covered the insect’s constringent coils began to pierce naked limbs like a million infinitesimal glass shards or microscopic needles, till he screamed with agony and insanity. Then, when his breath failed him and he could scream no longer, each plucked in turn, leisurely by long tweezers insuring that the neurotoxins injected themselves quicker, alas though, death would not come despite the pleas and begs, where one worked as a fatal poison, the other worked as antidote. Such a painful expression, this was of.... art.
Looking upon this broken effigy, of what soon to be revealed as one of the offspiring from a, Senator Zevid Leotis of the Systems Republic and who had been appointed magistrate of liaisons between Lorenz and the Nepei during the first invasions, directive of Adrin Eitan’s own agendas. Appreciating the whip-like mark of their coils imprinted round his limbs; and around his body where the scorched branding of the girdle inflicted with painful creativity. Gloating dreadfully, for such things she took upon her joy, and strove to pacify an implacable obscure desire on the torment of other species, especially those with enough intelligence to writhe in anguish knowing that soon their life would be as pitiless and worthless, another corpse for the pits fodder. Maybe more would have been delivered had it not been for one of the Raatasi Tlataelat Ushacth grunts that had been sent with a summons from Lao’Taun. Bowing in the strictest of obedience, much like a pup before its mistress, from beneath hoods of darkness and tattered remnants a coarse voice emerged from behind the veils.
Information passed via telepathic, acoustic (forced air through spiracle along with membrane vibrations) exchange and a ‘chemical’ release (pheromones—sex attractants) (allelochemicals—defensive signals) (kairomones—uses to find a ‘suitable’ host for parasitical infection) (allomones—defensive compounds that deter predation) for it was rare that any of the ’female’ Raatasi Tlataelat Ushacth arm exchanged actual spoken word amongst themselves, preferring to remain mysterious and thus many kept a sceptical if not a fearful approaching towards them, “Lao’Taun commands to share words. Xantlicha.” An auburn brow arching, though immediately before the messenger even had the graces to stand, her form had already passed the heavily cloaked figure whose features were completely camouflaged from sight. Scantily dressed beneath the silken robes, a short black corseted fishnet dress... one that revealed the naked bountiful of all that was woman beneath its transparency and short enough to reveal the taut buttocks unhampered by undergarments. Silky, stretchy laqué glossy polyvinyl highlights featured on the suspenders holding up the lace-netting of stockings, finished with a patent pair of 6inch heels.
Of course flexing shoulders back to allow the concealing silks to obscure the vision, arms moving back to allow the sleeves to fall free while the garment floated to the floor behind. Boot heels loudly clicking, hips purposefully set into motion, provoking the rear vision to swing from side to side accentuating the fact she wasn’t wearing any panties. Through such a uncovered and cheeky display of flesh strutted past those who gathered, always unsure of their positions within the RTU or whether once they had outlived their purpose would too join the ‘forge’ or worse. A confident smirk displayed itself boldly over candy-red lips, not bothering or caring to address any with respect. Respect was a fickle thing amongst the pool of devouring beings, all struggling to climb to the top of the food chain only to discover who was ready to be served on the banquet table.
Following the dimly lit corridors, through the heart of S'elothotha Cystho—the luminescent jade and sapphire accents merging with the same colours that were her eyes as she approached the throne where Lao’Taun sat, her head bowed and eyes barely focused on the horizon before her and would not raise her head unless otherwise was uttered. Of course in the action where body naturally bended at the waist, revealing a healthy eyeful bountiful pert breasts and the lineal platform of toned abdomen that coursed its way without concealment of predispose towards the gentila. Reminiscent of the succubus were the energies that danced about the wantonness of demeanour and sexual promiscuity that exhibited no shame or limitation of pleasures. A sensual moan escaping twixt partially open lips as fingers traced the surface of her form, a cruel and inhospitable tone escaping twixt teeth in the hissed cadence of Xantlicha’s subservient modulation, “How may I serve you today, Master.” Lips falling to silence where not even a breath dared escape...nor uttering further discourse unless his authority provoked the chimes of her findings, or other uses.
The shadow of Lao’Taun lies upon you...
Comfort was found in the shadows slithering along her sinful body. The cool, dark embrace of a lovers touch massaging over limbs that did not know what it was like to grow weary or pain, none that any human could grant. Not the type of pain she craved. To be a Umarian woman, she had to endure all the elements, not bitch and whine, or take walks along a beach fused with the radiance of dusks amberesque colours, to have children, to love and nurture them—theirs was more for the conquest, the rise above the rest from the snake pits of those who swam in the murky pools of the lowest forms, the lowest nadirs of their reign. Silent footsteps fell slowly on the cold stone floor as Xantlicha paced back and forth, her lithe fingers grasped at the black satin robes that hugged her endless curves, expressing the discontentment that surged throughout her form... while the bleeding, bruised and battered form of a male rested across the metal of one of her latest contraptions. Where spikes perforated through bone, and the vicious toxins induced by barbs like the pincers of insects.
Turmoil filled her thoughts for even though she was exactly where she wanted to be she didn't have everything. “No doubt some persuasion would help get the truth from him.” Turning to one of the guards that stood to attention at the antechamber door, eyes never moving to worship the female’s form or observe the delectable tortures that awaited her victim. Head cocking to the side as strands of fire tumbled over shoulders, lean figure slanting into a more casual stance; pondering the next course of action, the serum appeared to be less virulent than planned to the young Norian male. "Hmm, how odd! It, squeaks!" Turning to select one of the perfectly honed knives from the surgical table, twisting it in a manner that is caught the volumetric crimson lights causing it to gleam like a sanguine stained smile. Placing the satirical edge of knife beneath the leather tunic, then tauntingly cutting away his vestments before fastening about his body a silken girdle that had been freshly dipped in an acid corrosive only to Norian flesh.
Acid slowly eating at the flesh (one of the many lavish tools at her disposal), fretting his skin with infinite pangs and once again the sweet screams of agony sung through the chamber in high-pitched symphony. Pungent fumes of burning flesh rising into the air with its caustic camphor-sweetness. For this acquisition, initially it had been in regards to the military and governmental infrastructure of the surviving fleets, there was just something bothering her in regards to assuming they were weakened due to the fall of the last Aestaesys. One should never underestimate any opponent even if, they had been broken, what Xantlicha had learned from the many hours of labouring over boring tomes and manuscripts was never question the Lorenzian will for preservation and survival. War had fashioned them, and with each conquest or threat of annihilation they had endured and evolved.
And now, even after they faced extinction, already the remaining nations of Yirune Arm had reformed into what the Commonwealth and the Federation had failed to achieve (bringing together the nations and worlds of Lorenz) and again rebuilding. Not satisfied with just the screams that turned into more animalistic bawling, a sound that ideally should never gutturally evolve out from the throat of a man. Yawning somewhat betwixt the course of the ascending fleshy-vapours and peeling the silken girdle from the abdomen of her victim, moving to the aquariums that housed all forms of arachnids and venomous creatures—various insecta resembling metameric serpents, covered from head to tail with sable hairs like those of a caterpillar.
Verdant eyes infused with hyacinth veins watched with macabre interest, observing these aposematic chilopoda’s entwine themselves tightly about the limbs; and though he fought wildly in revulsion, he could not loosen them with his hands due to being bound by the metal restraints. Fibrous hairs that covered the insect’s constringent coils began to pierce naked limbs like a million infinitesimal glass shards or microscopic needles, till he screamed with agony and insanity. Then, when his breath failed him and he could scream no longer, each plucked in turn, leisurely by long tweezers insuring that the neurotoxins injected themselves quicker, alas though, death would not come despite the pleas and begs, where one worked as a fatal poison, the other worked as antidote. Such a painful expression, this was of.... art.
Looking upon this broken effigy, of what soon to be revealed as one of the offspiring from a, Senator Zevid Leotis of the Systems Republic and who had been appointed magistrate of liaisons between Lorenz and the Nepei during the first invasions, directive of Adrin Eitan’s own agendas. Appreciating the whip-like mark of their coils imprinted round his limbs; and around his body where the scorched branding of the girdle inflicted with painful creativity. Gloating dreadfully, for such things she took upon her joy, and strove to pacify an implacable obscure desire on the torment of other species, especially those with enough intelligence to writhe in anguish knowing that soon their life would be as pitiless and worthless, another corpse for the pits fodder. Maybe more would have been delivered had it not been for one of the Raatasi Tlataelat Ushacth grunts that had been sent with a summons from Lao’Taun. Bowing in the strictest of obedience, much like a pup before its mistress, from beneath hoods of darkness and tattered remnants a coarse voice emerged from behind the veils.
Information passed via telepathic, acoustic (forced air through spiracle along with membrane vibrations) exchange and a ‘chemical’ release (pheromones—sex attractants) (allelochemicals—defensive signals) (kairomones—uses to find a ‘suitable’ host for parasitical infection) (allomones—defensive compounds that deter predation) for it was rare that any of the ’female’ Raatasi Tlataelat Ushacth arm exchanged actual spoken word amongst themselves, preferring to remain mysterious and thus many kept a sceptical if not a fearful approaching towards them, “Lao’Taun commands to share words. Xantlicha.” An auburn brow arching, though immediately before the messenger even had the graces to stand, her form had already passed the heavily cloaked figure whose features were completely camouflaged from sight. Scantily dressed beneath the silken robes, a short black corseted fishnet dress... one that revealed the naked bountiful of all that was woman beneath its transparency and short enough to reveal the taut buttocks unhampered by undergarments. Silky, stretchy laqué glossy polyvinyl highlights featured on the suspenders holding up the lace-netting of stockings, finished with a patent pair of 6inch heels.
Of course flexing shoulders back to allow the concealing silks to obscure the vision, arms moving back to allow the sleeves to fall free while the garment floated to the floor behind. Boot heels loudly clicking, hips purposefully set into motion, provoking the rear vision to swing from side to side accentuating the fact she wasn’t wearing any panties. Through such a uncovered and cheeky display of flesh strutted past those who gathered, always unsure of their positions within the RTU or whether once they had outlived their purpose would too join the ‘forge’ or worse. A confident smirk displayed itself boldly over candy-red lips, not bothering or caring to address any with respect. Respect was a fickle thing amongst the pool of devouring beings, all struggling to climb to the top of the food chain only to discover who was ready to be served on the banquet table.
Following the dimly lit corridors, through the heart of S'elothotha Cystho—the luminescent jade and sapphire accents merging with the same colours that were her eyes as she approached the throne where Lao’Taun sat, her head bowed and eyes barely focused on the horizon before her and would not raise her head unless otherwise was uttered. Of course in the action where body naturally bended at the waist, revealing a healthy eyeful bountiful pert breasts and the lineal platform of toned abdomen that coursed its way without concealment of predispose towards the gentila. Reminiscent of the succubus were the energies that danced about the wantonness of demeanour and sexual promiscuity that exhibited no shame or limitation of pleasures. A sensual moan escaping twixt partially open lips as fingers traced the surface of her form, a cruel and inhospitable tone escaping twixt teeth in the hissed cadence of Xantlicha’s subservient modulation, “How may I serve you today, Master.” Lips falling to silence where not even a breath dared escape...nor uttering further discourse unless his authority provoked the chimes of her findings, or other uses.
The shadow of Lao’Taun lies upon you...
Lao'Taun: Tap...Tap..Tap...The tip of the covered blade was driven down against the fleshy carapace flooring of the Cathedral, it had actually cracked the floor releasing a black tar-like fluid that was literally re-solidifying each time Lao'Taun lifted the blade. His form still pressed back in the chair, eyes elevated slightly as the back of his head rested within the corner crevice of the chair. The bored solitude had evoked a progressive bitter tone to the day and watching the Norians scatter into the astral winds like scared rats was not getting him anywhere. Xantlicha's presence if warranted could of been ignored for hours, waiting and making other's wait were two completely different things -- the later of which was actually quite enjoyable with women of her resolve. Ambition was an aphrodisiac to those who were able to properly quantify and observe it reverently. Her style, her strategies had been studied with careful attention, prior to her appointment to lead the Raatasi Tlataelat Ushacth. Her usefulness in gaining advantage in Unyian Spiral had been an asset, even if it was her assets that had generally aided her in acquisition of victory; but then again, the art of war was not unknown to her and the command of combines and legions was far from behind beyond her. Lao'Taun had no problem with her methods, in fact he had observed every step within her processes deployed upon the Aestaesys Adrin Eitan.
Tap...Tap...The pattern interrupted, the blade tipping towards the floor [swarm] His body rippled and ungelated as it appeared to almost dissolve forming a mist-like cloud that was filled with small locust-like creatures that flowed in the direction of Xantlicha. The cloud held a somewhat mimicking shape of his form as it had closed to not even a pace from her. the action held a quickness, form resolidifying with enough time to catch Godsmourn with his heel and kick the covered blade upwards behind him, in which he caught within his grasp. His hand released it again when Chothakek's sentient black tendrils curled about it. His proximity to her was far closer than respectful for personal space - not that she would be permitted anything without his consent anyway. [vesper] There were some boundaries that had been overcome within the Astral Raquamothla such as language, neural and telepathic interfaces were utilized to the fullest extent. It however left little room for privacy within walls that were sometimes more intelligent than those who lived within them ; with the competitive nature of the congress and military arms a private word served the greatest of purposes. Like a whispered evening prayer,the vesper, flowing within the privacy reserved for Lao'Taun and only the highest of his followers he addressed her finally, "The scent of this exotic orchid is tainted with vapors of flesh, which clearly expresses that once more within the waiting seasons before conflict you have found at least some amusement from the caged cli'cha that resisted the best of offers." The irony of his diction bore him an amused smile, to call the very favourite children of Unya the vehement insult in which they cast upon the outsiders of their little span of influence.
Lao'Taun's opulent offerings were no more dull than her own, and he was immune to her cocktails so any progress made with him would be based upon merit alone, and of course the ambition that he craved to see within all who served him. [AI cluster link] The corners of his lips perked upwards as he browsed the list of today's accomplishments. "Son of a Senator...surprisingly a cruel proceeding to extract what was needed.." He stared down, gazing upon her lowered brow and downwards within the small space between them as if he could magnetically lift her eyes to him. "But, well done.." He often wondered what determined her course, the use of blade and acid or the more deadly and succulent grace of her seductions. "Zomacha have returned some rather interesting scans." he whispered, right hand ascending to lightly drag the tip of his claw-like rings down akin to the lower reaches of her cheek. "Some you will no doubt find interesting." [Share-AI cluster link] He then proceeded to share with her the data their probes had returned from the sphere the Norian and other survivors of the Unyian conquest were trying to colonize. A familiar biological resonance matching the profile of the Eitan Ysi was listed on one of the scans in which he highlighted to her within the melded connection. "Your favourite.." he offered, a tightened smirk on his visage. "This one I want unblemished, undoubtedly a specimen for assimilation." He extended the slightest of pressures upon her jaw, as to lift her gaze. "I entrust you will accomplish this as you have the other tasks you have been given." It pleased him to see effective leaders emerging from the lush gardens of Umarian origin.
At times it was a frustrating situation, the woes of weaponization such as hers. He had a bit of worry of it himself, perhaps a selfish mitigation of intended uses. The least he could do was ensure that her means didn't damage her opulent worth. [Shogola's Spine] Earlier he had mulled over this very perplexing issue, and had come to the conclusion that the least he could do is provide some chemical blessing to the situation. A femtomechanical cocktail that would settle within the lubrication glands of her genitalia that would provide her with a natural ability to restore the purity of her form. As he awaited her responses, the hypodermic spine that he used to deliver such blessings (as well as toxins during combat) began to extend as the fluid filled pores at it's base began to fill. He held the spine ready betwixt them, wondering if perhaps the delivery would be a memorable moment. Was this blessing more for him or her?
Tap...Tap...The pattern interrupted, the blade tipping towards the floor [swarm] His body rippled and ungelated as it appeared to almost dissolve forming a mist-like cloud that was filled with small locust-like creatures that flowed in the direction of Xantlicha. The cloud held a somewhat mimicking shape of his form as it had closed to not even a pace from her. the action held a quickness, form resolidifying with enough time to catch Godsmourn with his heel and kick the covered blade upwards behind him, in which he caught within his grasp. His hand released it again when Chothakek's sentient black tendrils curled about it. His proximity to her was far closer than respectful for personal space - not that she would be permitted anything without his consent anyway. [vesper] There were some boundaries that had been overcome within the Astral Raquamothla such as language, neural and telepathic interfaces were utilized to the fullest extent. It however left little room for privacy within walls that were sometimes more intelligent than those who lived within them ; with the competitive nature of the congress and military arms a private word served the greatest of purposes. Like a whispered evening prayer,the vesper, flowing within the privacy reserved for Lao'Taun and only the highest of his followers he addressed her finally, "The scent of this exotic orchid is tainted with vapors of flesh, which clearly expresses that once more within the waiting seasons before conflict you have found at least some amusement from the caged cli'cha that resisted the best of offers." The irony of his diction bore him an amused smile, to call the very favourite children of Unya the vehement insult in which they cast upon the outsiders of their little span of influence.
Lao'Taun's opulent offerings were no more dull than her own, and he was immune to her cocktails so any progress made with him would be based upon merit alone, and of course the ambition that he craved to see within all who served him. [AI cluster link] The corners of his lips perked upwards as he browsed the list of today's accomplishments. "Son of a Senator...surprisingly a cruel proceeding to extract what was needed.." He stared down, gazing upon her lowered brow and downwards within the small space between them as if he could magnetically lift her eyes to him. "But, well done.." He often wondered what determined her course, the use of blade and acid or the more deadly and succulent grace of her seductions. "Zomacha have returned some rather interesting scans." he whispered, right hand ascending to lightly drag the tip of his claw-like rings down akin to the lower reaches of her cheek. "Some you will no doubt find interesting." [Share-AI cluster link] He then proceeded to share with her the data their probes had returned from the sphere the Norian and other survivors of the Unyian conquest were trying to colonize. A familiar biological resonance matching the profile of the Eitan Ysi was listed on one of the scans in which he highlighted to her within the melded connection. "Your favourite.." he offered, a tightened smirk on his visage. "This one I want unblemished, undoubtedly a specimen for assimilation." He extended the slightest of pressures upon her jaw, as to lift her gaze. "I entrust you will accomplish this as you have the other tasks you have been given." It pleased him to see effective leaders emerging from the lush gardens of Umarian origin.
At times it was a frustrating situation, the woes of weaponization such as hers. He had a bit of worry of it himself, perhaps a selfish mitigation of intended uses. The least he could do was ensure that her means didn't damage her opulent worth. [Shogola's Spine] Earlier he had mulled over this very perplexing issue, and had come to the conclusion that the least he could do is provide some chemical blessing to the situation. A femtomechanical cocktail that would settle within the lubrication glands of her genitalia that would provide her with a natural ability to restore the purity of her form. As he awaited her responses, the hypodermic spine that he used to deliver such blessings (as well as toxins during combat) began to extend as the fluid filled pores at it's base began to fill. He held the spine ready betwixt them, wondering if perhaps the delivery would be a memorable moment. Was this blessing more for him or her?
Xantlicha: Xantlicha didn’t need to look up and witness the spawning of metamorphosis of her master’s shape, the vibrations that oscillated in carousel throughout the atmosphere to sent shivers along the length of spine was enough of an indication. Shifting flesh and motion, an action that brought his presence so intoxicatingly close to her own luscious form, that the sensation aroused the capturing breath to emit a faint yet delectable gasp—one amalgamated with more fear and ecstasy. Vesperals entering the cortex of mind, protruding through the brainwaves that aroused and seduced her more into his thrall; complete control over the neurological spirals and nervous system, reacting as if completely sentient from the disembodied connections that once this spiritless body called , life. Eyes remained not pinned to the floor but parallel to it, though observant to the blade caught in the grasp of hand. What a stunning artefact it was, its mastery beyond compare to any other Xantlicha had ever laid witness to. It was far better suited to the hand who yielded it now, than the fool who so readily surrendered it. By succumbing to the taints that lingered in the perfumed vistas between the thighs—she had enjoyed herself, the taste of Adrin’s sweat still tasted sweet on her lips.
Vivid green eyes slowly ascending, adorning vision with the stature of Lao’Taun’s majestic supremacy, studying it in reverent waltzes as if wishing to delve deeper beneath the attire and worship without restriction—those images would be keep to far fonder thoughts. Attention never swaying from the words given within the link exchange, no word missed, no word misinterpreted. Body quaking to the clawed-guidance of touch, adding further stimulus towards pheromonial-lusts, boiling and percolating within the burning veins, encouraging breasts to heave in the junction twixt silence and information received (as if a lover’s guiding hand sought in awakening sultry moans by delving twixt velveteen folds). Touched to the creviced cheekbone, sharply drifting inciting more displays in coquettish response, the way legs pressed tighter together whilst standing to complete attention, in unison with other signs and symptoms alert in reaction. Obeisance retorting by means only to the nodding of already bowed head, till magnetic applied to tilt chin upwards, level with striking and handsome features, though she dared not look upon Lao’Taun directly to the eyes.
With the news of yet another Eitan, Xantlicha couldn’t help but deliver a sly smirk, even the administration of it crept evilly over lips like the darkening of orchids by the wilt of frost. A bit of disappointment however came at the instruction keywords, or in this case, the safe words of the victim ‘unblemished’, adding more phrases on the edge of unmistakable directives, orders she wouldn’t dare defy. Yet, there were many methods to grant, to stir the agonies of a man without rendering welt, wound or mark. Having extensively studied torture methods, some of the favoured were or had been customarily produced from the current Aester of the Norians—at least what little informations were extracted from the senator’s son who had access to various manuscripts of Ayenee’s past that prior, they were not able to gain control of let alone a peek into the past. The affirmative of both having understood the orders, and the appreciation that she had been entrusted with them, bought a quick and simple response...”As you wish master, you shall have yet another to add to the fallen of Unya’s children.”
Dark was the discourse of the woman before him, keen to please the virulent natures of his ways, and further ensure the supremacy of the Umarians—the silent hunger detected in the rapid increase of pulse. Evident to the pride and temptations recognized in the higher ranked women, rather enthusiastic when it came to ensuring their position and that they didn’t falter from the eyes of their Lords or Masters. Dark tongue snaked between lips, flicking in anticipation for whatever awaited her fate at the end of hypodermic spine dripping with vituperative ichors. Cocooned well and truly in the spider’s web, the willing victim at the end of the puppet master’s strings...
Vivid green eyes slowly ascending, adorning vision with the stature of Lao’Taun’s majestic supremacy, studying it in reverent waltzes as if wishing to delve deeper beneath the attire and worship without restriction—those images would be keep to far fonder thoughts. Attention never swaying from the words given within the link exchange, no word missed, no word misinterpreted. Body quaking to the clawed-guidance of touch, adding further stimulus towards pheromonial-lusts, boiling and percolating within the burning veins, encouraging breasts to heave in the junction twixt silence and information received (as if a lover’s guiding hand sought in awakening sultry moans by delving twixt velveteen folds). Touched to the creviced cheekbone, sharply drifting inciting more displays in coquettish response, the way legs pressed tighter together whilst standing to complete attention, in unison with other signs and symptoms alert in reaction. Obeisance retorting by means only to the nodding of already bowed head, till magnetic applied to tilt chin upwards, level with striking and handsome features, though she dared not look upon Lao’Taun directly to the eyes.
With the news of yet another Eitan, Xantlicha couldn’t help but deliver a sly smirk, even the administration of it crept evilly over lips like the darkening of orchids by the wilt of frost. A bit of disappointment however came at the instruction keywords, or in this case, the safe words of the victim ‘unblemished’, adding more phrases on the edge of unmistakable directives, orders she wouldn’t dare defy. Yet, there were many methods to grant, to stir the agonies of a man without rendering welt, wound or mark. Having extensively studied torture methods, some of the favoured were or had been customarily produced from the current Aester of the Norians—at least what little informations were extracted from the senator’s son who had access to various manuscripts of Ayenee’s past that prior, they were not able to gain control of let alone a peek into the past. The affirmative of both having understood the orders, and the appreciation that she had been entrusted with them, bought a quick and simple response...”As you wish master, you shall have yet another to add to the fallen of Unya’s children.”
Dark was the discourse of the woman before him, keen to please the virulent natures of his ways, and further ensure the supremacy of the Umarians—the silent hunger detected in the rapid increase of pulse. Evident to the pride and temptations recognized in the higher ranked women, rather enthusiastic when it came to ensuring their position and that they didn’t falter from the eyes of their Lords or Masters. Dark tongue snaked between lips, flicking in anticipation for whatever awaited her fate at the end of hypodermic spine dripping with vituperative ichors. Cocooned well and truly in the spider’s web, the willing victim at the end of the puppet master’s strings...
Lao'Taun: The intimacy of Lao'Taun was an enigma to most. It was obvious that the man could take as he pleased without question within the Astral Raquamothla. It was something however that had never been documented or witnessed, and with reasons only known to him. He had concerns of course, with love came the sharing of power and with that came the dilution of state. It would take a woman of impression and the most volatile of flavors to ever truly grace his side. It didn't stop him from taking from the gardens as he pleased, at least not now. He was very observant of her reactions to him, cognitive to the nature of her being and all that she was capable of, he actually had taken a confident air within the pressures his very presence exerted upon her. The graze of his rings against her cheek hand left dull temporary marks of their workings, lines that he granted retracing by his actual fingertips in an actual endearing nature. [Shogola's Spine] The other hand poised to deliver the spine and it's conjured package only lacked the aggressive flick of the wrist that would be required to pierce her skin. He was about to do so when epiphany hit within the erotic discourse of his thoughts, such delivery could be so much more meaningful at other junctures.[AI cluster link] At his command, the control system for the S'elothotha Cystho began to seal the passageways leading to it's epicenter, the massive stained glass apertures falling dark as blast shutters closed over them blocking the light from the Upper Array that ran the length of the Yughoshi's backbone. Within the dark eclipse the only light that remained was from the faint violet and blue hues of the volumetric displays upon the monolith-like structures that crowned the throne platform.
Lao'Taun closed the space between he and Xantlicha, the rare met gaze between he and another relished within a deep clandestine nature, the solitary stage of ruler-ship left to rest within the winds of the man behind the image. He held himself over her, against her in a ruling manner. The graceful tones of her submissive acknowledgment of his orders still ringing within the depths of his thoughts. He whispered quietly through the already established link, "I guess we will have to gauge your efforts more closely as your customary opiates and toxins are useless." It was not so much a comment, rather a command. Performance was everything, and challenge was even more inspiring but with that came risk, for the consequences of disappointing him laid in history as blood-soaked fields. The way he held her, was almost reminiscent of a close couple's dance and the symphony laid within the low pitched hum of the Yughoshi's reactors many decks below them.
Their 'dance' ended at the front of the throne, where he intended to impart upon her the first act of her 'service to the Raquamothla'. His touch although gentle, was absolute and guiding. It encouraged the motion of her form, the expression in which he fully intended to observe. [Mosth] As he lowered himself into his throne, eyes still fixated upon her. The low powered fragrant pheromone lifted into the air, it's aroma reminiscent of sandalwood and charred cherry designed to stimulate, and help enhance arousal. It would seem that it was her now upon uneven ground in terms of chemical 'warfare'. Promoting the evolution of the mosth, her permitted Chothakek's retreat of his upper body. The sentient armour flooding downwards and revealing the sculptured flesh of the man beneath, or well what looked to be a man. The rarity of his seeking of carnal pleasures granted to him tremendous gratification when he did, he sat with his back against the cold chitinous back of the throne, the faint stormy impressions of strange insectoid scribe tattoos moving upon his alabaster skin with each purely aesthetic breath he took.
The links between Lao'Taun and his closest advisers sunk into an imposed silence as he sought privacy with Xantlicha, only the highest of priority transmissions would be delivered. The business as hand was rerouted to his governors and to the vice-roys it applied to. Nebulous orbs sunk into glossy black eventide, like the dark prisons from which they had emerged to take their revenge upon the builders and their children. The only color that flashed within them was the reflected image of the voluptuous form before him. Dance, Dance for your Master. The celestial choir demands the service of your form. Before our great leader bestow your form. Give upon him the gift of your complete submission, a thankfulness for the opulent {lush} {rich} existence you lead holding one of the great swords within the arms of the Umarian Supremacy. Dance, Dance for he who has turned worlds black and named suns after you in reward for your victories. Give yourself, completely.
Lao'Taun closed the space between he and Xantlicha, the rare met gaze between he and another relished within a deep clandestine nature, the solitary stage of ruler-ship left to rest within the winds of the man behind the image. He held himself over her, against her in a ruling manner. The graceful tones of her submissive acknowledgment of his orders still ringing within the depths of his thoughts. He whispered quietly through the already established link, "I guess we will have to gauge your efforts more closely as your customary opiates and toxins are useless." It was not so much a comment, rather a command. Performance was everything, and challenge was even more inspiring but with that came risk, for the consequences of disappointing him laid in history as blood-soaked fields. The way he held her, was almost reminiscent of a close couple's dance and the symphony laid within the low pitched hum of the Yughoshi's reactors many decks below them.
Their 'dance' ended at the front of the throne, where he intended to impart upon her the first act of her 'service to the Raquamothla'. His touch although gentle, was absolute and guiding. It encouraged the motion of her form, the expression in which he fully intended to observe. [Mosth] As he lowered himself into his throne, eyes still fixated upon her. The low powered fragrant pheromone lifted into the air, it's aroma reminiscent of sandalwood and charred cherry designed to stimulate, and help enhance arousal. It would seem that it was her now upon uneven ground in terms of chemical 'warfare'. Promoting the evolution of the mosth, her permitted Chothakek's retreat of his upper body. The sentient armour flooding downwards and revealing the sculptured flesh of the man beneath, or well what looked to be a man. The rarity of his seeking of carnal pleasures granted to him tremendous gratification when he did, he sat with his back against the cold chitinous back of the throne, the faint stormy impressions of strange insectoid scribe tattoos moving upon his alabaster skin with each purely aesthetic breath he took.
The links between Lao'Taun and his closest advisers sunk into an imposed silence as he sought privacy with Xantlicha, only the highest of priority transmissions would be delivered. The business as hand was rerouted to his governors and to the vice-roys it applied to. Nebulous orbs sunk into glossy black eventide, like the dark prisons from which they had emerged to take their revenge upon the builders and their children. The only color that flashed within them was the reflected image of the voluptuous form before him. Dance, Dance for your Master. The celestial choir demands the service of your form. Before our great leader bestow your form. Give upon him the gift of your complete submission, a thankfulness for the opulent {lush} {rich} existence you lead holding one of the great swords within the arms of the Umarian Supremacy. Dance, Dance for he who has turned worlds black and named suns after you in reward for your victories. Give yourself, completely.
Xantlicha: Wetted by the storms he had conjured, softly sung moans beguiling of nocturnal call as if charming the snake from its jewelled basket. Where even the serpent-sway of hips that captivatingly brushed across the physique of Lao’Taun. Attractions magnetized, pressed hard for a moment against the restraints of armour which only caused the frustrated sigh as breath quickened and deepened bringing the softest bosom neatly against tepid fortifications. Sending an unvoiced yearning through the visuals and links interconnected, transmitting decadent and delectable imageries of licentious devilries and debaucheries. It was arousing enough to know, that by his own hands energy shields were vaporised, arcane battlefields bleed electric miasmas, infested and sprawling over dusted nebulas that the winds whispered footfalls of the great tacticians of Lorenz. Mechanisms traversed ashen fields and cast them to nothing but altars of sorrow. Those hands adorning cheek between harshness and tenderness, the silhouettes of both pleasure and pain like a minstrel of discordant and desirable symphonies. A touch, able to melt flesh, forcing the sufferer to nightmare, consumed by maws of steel and ravenous rhapsodies as the icons of peace dropped one by one, status of derision flailing in ruptured harmony.
The blood of enemies consumed, embroiled in raving mad insanities as the sprawling arachnids of the inner machines sought the first holes to infiltrate, beneath the violent darkness unveiled with the pluck of delicate fingernail—figure writhing, seductive in this tangible fetid matrimony of absolute inhibition and capitulation. Hope and dignity stripped from living flesh, a sacrifice to him, for such were gods of mirthful atrocity. "I am rid of the pain of reality through your methods and ways, most importantly, the fundamentals of your divine madness." Where lips loved to grace the tender lobe of ear, though not daring to touch him without explicit permission for she had been presented for his enjoyment and to obtain the desires and lusts of the men sought for assimilation. Her position was not to disobey nor question covets of her master, but to submit regardless of the pleasure he craved to grant or the pain he wanted to give. Both would be embraced, and both would be utilized to forge her strengths and ‘talents’.
Guided touch imparted a tempestuous chaos within the interiors, like a toppled trophy set on the mantle of his conquered dominions, protruding to enslave with the fiery chains of lust. An anchored vessel, swaying, hand delving twixt thighs to polish the pearly tantric orb—if only to spur the wanting and provide for her master the delicious visuals for eyes to feast upon without restriction. Bewitching ecstasy’s surge, while watery ribbons of gleaming wines drenched the purse where hand stirred in search for the jewels and treasures to incite his heart. Left leg rising, whee heel graced the edge of the throne between the legs of Lao’Taun, locking there to offer balance and support. Beneath netting, lace and polyvinyl frills, rosy lobes of luxurious silk revealed her offering while Shogola’s Spine brought yet another craving. Verdant mirrors swept across flesh, veneration that effortless could force her upon knees and bestow that very worship, with fivefold kisses.
Fingernails plucking at the laces of corset painstakingly slow while figure swayed to the rhythm of silent music as it fell to the floor with a dull thud. Nimble and lascivious contortions, amid the fuming of nature’s aphrodisiac vapors... flaunted her evil beauty within the black reflections of his eyes as if conspiring tacitly to keep her in his thoughts; and it seemed that even the heavy arrases whispered her name as they rustled in the lost voices that wandered through the gloomy and interminable halls. Gradually garments were fully removed, only the bronze tones of flesh illuminated by the hypnotic lights, shadows rising to probe the inner sanctums. Sinister was the motion of hips, to withdraw and again advance towards the object of Xantlicha’s notions—an offering of the flesh and the metaphysical self; gyrating movements to coax and enthuse the rising of ‘his’ towering obelisk.
Skilled movements, suggestive in the manner of calculated declines and lucrative bends only to circulate hips as if promising to grind down against pelvic region where the sweetness of satin lips were only but a touch away; leg still remaining poised on the frame of throne. Gliding body as if already caught in the throes of immoral savagery of sex and sin. Entire figure moving to express the entire splendour of the female art, giving of herself to the added incentive of finger to delicate folds while the other swept without restraint from naval to nipple, twisting it amid thumb and forefinger, sadistically. Something rippling under the skin, reshaping, forging, transmuting the inner mettle into her image the very woman that haunted the dreams and nightmares of exalted men. Moans graduating, scintillating as if pending orgasm wanted to emit from over lips that longed to press firmly against his, or seek lower regions of worship. Waiting to receive him, and all his, nefarious glories.
The blood of enemies consumed, embroiled in raving mad insanities as the sprawling arachnids of the inner machines sought the first holes to infiltrate, beneath the violent darkness unveiled with the pluck of delicate fingernail—figure writhing, seductive in this tangible fetid matrimony of absolute inhibition and capitulation. Hope and dignity stripped from living flesh, a sacrifice to him, for such were gods of mirthful atrocity. "I am rid of the pain of reality through your methods and ways, most importantly, the fundamentals of your divine madness." Where lips loved to grace the tender lobe of ear, though not daring to touch him without explicit permission for she had been presented for his enjoyment and to obtain the desires and lusts of the men sought for assimilation. Her position was not to disobey nor question covets of her master, but to submit regardless of the pleasure he craved to grant or the pain he wanted to give. Both would be embraced, and both would be utilized to forge her strengths and ‘talents’.
Guided touch imparted a tempestuous chaos within the interiors, like a toppled trophy set on the mantle of his conquered dominions, protruding to enslave with the fiery chains of lust. An anchored vessel, swaying, hand delving twixt thighs to polish the pearly tantric orb—if only to spur the wanting and provide for her master the delicious visuals for eyes to feast upon without restriction. Bewitching ecstasy’s surge, while watery ribbons of gleaming wines drenched the purse where hand stirred in search for the jewels and treasures to incite his heart. Left leg rising, whee heel graced the edge of the throne between the legs of Lao’Taun, locking there to offer balance and support. Beneath netting, lace and polyvinyl frills, rosy lobes of luxurious silk revealed her offering while Shogola’s Spine brought yet another craving. Verdant mirrors swept across flesh, veneration that effortless could force her upon knees and bestow that very worship, with fivefold kisses.
Fingernails plucking at the laces of corset painstakingly slow while figure swayed to the rhythm of silent music as it fell to the floor with a dull thud. Nimble and lascivious contortions, amid the fuming of nature’s aphrodisiac vapors... flaunted her evil beauty within the black reflections of his eyes as if conspiring tacitly to keep her in his thoughts; and it seemed that even the heavy arrases whispered her name as they rustled in the lost voices that wandered through the gloomy and interminable halls. Gradually garments were fully removed, only the bronze tones of flesh illuminated by the hypnotic lights, shadows rising to probe the inner sanctums. Sinister was the motion of hips, to withdraw and again advance towards the object of Xantlicha’s notions—an offering of the flesh and the metaphysical self; gyrating movements to coax and enthuse the rising of ‘his’ towering obelisk.
Skilled movements, suggestive in the manner of calculated declines and lucrative bends only to circulate hips as if promising to grind down against pelvic region where the sweetness of satin lips were only but a touch away; leg still remaining poised on the frame of throne. Gliding body as if already caught in the throes of immoral savagery of sex and sin. Entire figure moving to express the entire splendour of the female art, giving of herself to the added incentive of finger to delicate folds while the other swept without restraint from naval to nipple, twisting it amid thumb and forefinger, sadistically. Something rippling under the skin, reshaping, forging, transmuting the inner mettle into her image the very woman that haunted the dreams and nightmares of exalted men. Moans graduating, scintillating as if pending orgasm wanted to emit from over lips that longed to press firmly against his, or seek lower regions of worship. Waiting to receive him, and all his, nefarious glories.
Lao'Taun: Appreciation for art and philosophy perhaps made his mind a more complex web of processes and ideals than most gave him credit. Of course little could be extrapolated from the terrified screams that generally marked his presence upon the front; he was not in the habit of having discussions outside of the congress. His image was the gear for most, emitted upon the side of waxy black hulls and the sides of towering buildings left intact within devastated cities. His gaze beheld appreciation, fixation and judgement the unbreakable lock of his eyes upon her luscious form spoke volumes as to his approval. Her swaying dance a spectacle worth perhaps even recalling within the long boring days of voyages through the star-fields of the spirals. His eyes beheld her form, captured within their dark inky wells as he allowed himself to experience the smouldering lust that her movements ignited in fullness. Charm, ambition, confidence, traits he admired within the strange light the volumetrics befell on her within the murky shadows of his inner sanctum; the placement of her foot upon his throne an unexpected and impressive accessory to his view. [Dismissal of the Shroud] His dark tongue swept across his lips, hungering for what was being presented before him. It lead to the dismissal of Chothakek entirely, the tar-like dissolution of the sentient armour slipping down the sides of the throne and into one of the dips within the floor. He was pleased, the talented War Maiden had managed to bring an unexpected turn to his day, and through her service she could expected to be rewarded; the act within itself probably a pipe-dream reward sought by more than he would of liked to consider.
Her gyrations, the rocking pendulum of her hips like empusae trance bringing forth the arousal she sought. His hands rested upon the designed rests at the side of the throne, fingers clutched over the globe-like orbs upon their terminus allowing her unhindered view of his battle-born form, at least the one he held for now. Towering phallic obelisk displayed with no modesty only hardening further basking within the waves of lustful anticipation that she projected upon him. [Disengage-Wasp] His body was much like a fortress but in a deceptive sense, weaponization and defences would hinder hedonistic embrace if not otherwise instructed. The rest of the tempest would leave him far from vulnerable even still, but for him to relinquish it permitted an deep dwelling intimacy. [Disengage-Myothe] The very air around him charged and smelling briefly of ozone as he discharged his natural electrogravitic field, something that was harmless to one of her rank but depending upon her skill he didn't want to accidentally incapacitate decks of needed personnel. Lao'Taun's facial expression was committed within a myriad of emotion, judgemental gaze meeting hers as he communicated a single though, a temporary consent, for her to proceed as she pleased. [Mosth II] A second release of pheromone, this time of a more complex nature and obviously mimicked and changed from one of the insectoid species within the UAR. The new chemical triggered mass release of a serotonin-like chemical that existed within most of the Umarian species spectrum; triggering excitation, empathic and climbing arousal it cradled the still lingering initial chemical release enforcing it with a woody musk scent.
His musculature seemed tight beneath his skin, it showed the slight undulations of enigmatic inner workings that were perhaps left to seeded nightmares. The excitement, the arousal played havoc upon his biology increasing the flow of fluids within, the black caustic vitae that thundered through the veins of his inner-form showed through the alabaster sculpture especially along the surging length of his member that had arisen fully showing the man's endowment was not just in power. The Cathedral was massive, with it's dome capped crown and towering atrium, every moan Xantlicha made resounded and echoed within the cavernous structure. It was a cacophony he obviously enjoyed and couldn't help but wonder how it would change within expected crescendos. His normal intricacies would of pushed for a more aggressive posture, however that for now would need to be subdued, he wanted to see what she was capable of, not that there was any question that his own desires would come to bear later. While some of his abilities subdued, others strengthened and perhaps the very nature of his being began to unfold.
From that which had been shifting within, [Ilatarha] Two black creatures, about the size of a quarter called Ilatarha were released from small pockets beneath his shoulder blades. They resembled starfish, but crept almost like bugs and acted upon his will. They were commonly used for reckon or other secretive exercises but they were very much so alive. In this case, their application was more biological centred around the stimuli of pleasure. They crept around his form and leapt like hoppers landing precisely on target unto the ample rises of her breasts. Tiny suctioncup-like extensions gave them a grip along with their excretions, they had been programmed for delivery of neural stimulus, small stinger like spines harshly stabbing to pierce her nipples, their neural transmission tendrils whipping through the centre of the spines meaning to latch onto her nerve endings. The blackish creatures rippled with an electric charge, sending a low jolt of arousing stimulus while creating suction upon the tender nubs.
Her gyrations, the rocking pendulum of her hips like empusae trance bringing forth the arousal she sought. His hands rested upon the designed rests at the side of the throne, fingers clutched over the globe-like orbs upon their terminus allowing her unhindered view of his battle-born form, at least the one he held for now. Towering phallic obelisk displayed with no modesty only hardening further basking within the waves of lustful anticipation that she projected upon him. [Disengage-Wasp] His body was much like a fortress but in a deceptive sense, weaponization and defences would hinder hedonistic embrace if not otherwise instructed. The rest of the tempest would leave him far from vulnerable even still, but for him to relinquish it permitted an deep dwelling intimacy. [Disengage-Myothe] The very air around him charged and smelling briefly of ozone as he discharged his natural electrogravitic field, something that was harmless to one of her rank but depending upon her skill he didn't want to accidentally incapacitate decks of needed personnel. Lao'Taun's facial expression was committed within a myriad of emotion, judgemental gaze meeting hers as he communicated a single though, a temporary consent, for her to proceed as she pleased. [Mosth II] A second release of pheromone, this time of a more complex nature and obviously mimicked and changed from one of the insectoid species within the UAR. The new chemical triggered mass release of a serotonin-like chemical that existed within most of the Umarian species spectrum; triggering excitation, empathic and climbing arousal it cradled the still lingering initial chemical release enforcing it with a woody musk scent.
His musculature seemed tight beneath his skin, it showed the slight undulations of enigmatic inner workings that were perhaps left to seeded nightmares. The excitement, the arousal played havoc upon his biology increasing the flow of fluids within, the black caustic vitae that thundered through the veins of his inner-form showed through the alabaster sculpture especially along the surging length of his member that had arisen fully showing the man's endowment was not just in power. The Cathedral was massive, with it's dome capped crown and towering atrium, every moan Xantlicha made resounded and echoed within the cavernous structure. It was a cacophony he obviously enjoyed and couldn't help but wonder how it would change within expected crescendos. His normal intricacies would of pushed for a more aggressive posture, however that for now would need to be subdued, he wanted to see what she was capable of, not that there was any question that his own desires would come to bear later. While some of his abilities subdued, others strengthened and perhaps the very nature of his being began to unfold.
From that which had been shifting within, [Ilatarha] Two black creatures, about the size of a quarter called Ilatarha were released from small pockets beneath his shoulder blades. They resembled starfish, but crept almost like bugs and acted upon his will. They were commonly used for reckon or other secretive exercises but they were very much so alive. In this case, their application was more biological centred around the stimuli of pleasure. They crept around his form and leapt like hoppers landing precisely on target unto the ample rises of her breasts. Tiny suctioncup-like extensions gave them a grip along with their excretions, they had been programmed for delivery of neural stimulus, small stinger like spines harshly stabbing to pierce her nipples, their neural transmission tendrils whipping through the centre of the spines meaning to latch onto her nerve endings. The blackish creatures rippled with an electric charge, sending a low jolt of arousing stimulus while creating suction upon the tender nubs.
Xantlicha: Ridges heaved and boiled beneath bone, loud audible ‘cracks’ heard through the infectious atmosphere as spines erupted, black chitin quills rising along the bridge of spine; spinal column protruding elongating outwards... pearl-hued perfumed liquid oozing from the fresh wounds of metamorphosis. A soft rumble reverberated into a sultry purr of deep contentment, nostrils flaring, breathing in his scent. Lengths of saffron tresses rose in dramatic animation, vermillion embers glowing and crackling to the tensions of excitement. Electromagnetic spectrums igniting as they touch triggering nerve points, torrents of electricity travelling through the core to the center of Xantlicha’s brain. Mild contractions began to increase causing contractions to prepare sexual organs. Sweet smelling rose-bouquets impregnating the epicentre when both insectoids [Ilatarha] wrapped around nipples, set loose to bestow this ultimate dispensation.
Sequenced jolts, tingling currents from circumoral nerve ring goading... erotic stimuli of the autonomic nervous system, chemicals already released inflaming oxytocin and the eruptional essences that dripped to lubricate quivering chasm. With a expression of pure ecstasy, athletic body began to buckle and violently shake, reaching the first of quakes that rolled in like the incoming tides causing emerald flickering hues to roll back into her head revealing the pure whites of oracular orbs. . Saturated with chemicals and the heady floral aromas that sent lightening shocks of pleasure right into her brain, continuous blissful shocks travelled back and forth throughout while hips in rocked in definite clockwork circles, self-control disintegrated. Fully submitting to the glorious feelings that now overpowered the woman’s whole being...
Why deny that heated coursing and scourge of the master’s vehemence and wants, or to renounce self-indulgence of taloned stroke and pitiless gratifications. Scintillating dual exchanges of electromagnetism, revelling through the uniquely enhanced central nervous system, toxic spur triggering the most primordial of reactions deep within the perennials structure. Horror inspired to anima, hair follicles developed a life of its own, static charges flickering, lightening dancing as the strands tussled reminiscent to the swarm of snakes dancing over her breasts with, the creatures Lao’Taun had placed there pulsating with their own encouragements and incentives, as if to feed from the milky-louche of a lactating mother. Hands slowly stroking the flesh... gnarled scrapping that left reddened delicate welts of sensuality over stomach and the drifting amid saturated labia.
Inherent methods gave the signal of impious coaxing towards his arousals; and through a heritable strategy-- an order beyond science, something that only their species could ever create. Pheromones and endorphins exhumed from the emissions seeping from the pores that formed like tiny pearls over gold-bronzed limbs. A liquid that typically had driven men into a lustful insanity, before, straddling the fleshy-towers of masculine pinnacle where desire awaited the utopia’s of sexual satisfaction. Small punctures all along Xantlicha’s spine came to life, microscopic tendrils linked the xenophilian probe to the spine, tendrils flaying in whip-song as eight in unison grew like pharyngulan arms—some were thicker than the others and bore suction devices at the zeniths where suction caps protruded inside the toothless mouths. Six of these liana’s were obviously employed for traction or grasping, the others had smaller tubes within the main pipes were brutal fangs curved inwards (showing that whatever entered without restriction, would be shredded on extraction). A special protrusion at the rear just above the crevice resembled the metasoma of a scorpion-- five caudal segments including the telson to administer the toxins to paralyse and subdue victims. Tail apparatus able to be turned upwards and downwards a highly unusual and versatile tool which also played a vital part in the first stage of the breeding process.
Trembling in an endless series of blissful pulses traced their way up and down her trim body. Two transparent tendrils had wrapped around Lao’Taun’s ankles before spiralling upwards smoothly against his flesh. Once in position where the tips stroked the master’s inner thigh, bringing tail to caress in upwards groping towards the hardness of his member, brushing the tiny clusters of small mouths massaged along solid flesh before entwining around and applying gentle suctions of pressure. Lucent liquids workings as a lubricant, facilitating unobstructed advances in sync to tail rising to offer stimulation to erogenous zones prompting seductive congresses... caressing the skin to exploit the opening at its tip where slick, gooey coital elixirs of pungent pheromones. Hips rocked gently, enjoying the dominating incursions unleashed, letting out a gasp of anticipation while the tendrils moved upwards, wrapping his body and enveloping, securing position to lever and tease with the moistness and soft folds that awaited with crazed fervour.
Tendril curled and spun upwards, digging within her wet clingy confines, stimulating uterus to lift and poise itself for sexual union while relaxing for the upcoming procedure. Surrendered... rising with the seductive sensations until they peaked and she was rewarded with another, deeper climax. It always tickled in an erotic way as to tease the sanctums with serpent, urging on arousal when they grunted in the wanting—contact made very slight. Within the interiors, the main probe began to swell, exaggerating the sensations wanted to be felt with their bodies sexually unified. The billowing, throbbing, undulating organ worked against the pliable walls, tugging and pushing, slipping and sliding against her delicate intimate flesh. Pampering in turn his senses, propelling him to an impending, inevitable crescendo... oviducts and neurotoxin component administered through tubular funnel, sticking out from beneath the edge of the mantle, injecting it with aphrodisiac enzymes [TTX as a sex-pheromone].
Sequenced jolts, tingling currents from circumoral nerve ring goading... erotic stimuli of the autonomic nervous system, chemicals already released inflaming oxytocin and the eruptional essences that dripped to lubricate quivering chasm. With a expression of pure ecstasy, athletic body began to buckle and violently shake, reaching the first of quakes that rolled in like the incoming tides causing emerald flickering hues to roll back into her head revealing the pure whites of oracular orbs. . Saturated with chemicals and the heady floral aromas that sent lightening shocks of pleasure right into her brain, continuous blissful shocks travelled back and forth throughout while hips in rocked in definite clockwork circles, self-control disintegrated. Fully submitting to the glorious feelings that now overpowered the woman’s whole being...
Why deny that heated coursing and scourge of the master’s vehemence and wants, or to renounce self-indulgence of taloned stroke and pitiless gratifications. Scintillating dual exchanges of electromagnetism, revelling through the uniquely enhanced central nervous system, toxic spur triggering the most primordial of reactions deep within the perennials structure. Horror inspired to anima, hair follicles developed a life of its own, static charges flickering, lightening dancing as the strands tussled reminiscent to the swarm of snakes dancing over her breasts with, the creatures Lao’Taun had placed there pulsating with their own encouragements and incentives, as if to feed from the milky-louche of a lactating mother. Hands slowly stroking the flesh... gnarled scrapping that left reddened delicate welts of sensuality over stomach and the drifting amid saturated labia.
Inherent methods gave the signal of impious coaxing towards his arousals; and through a heritable strategy-- an order beyond science, something that only their species could ever create. Pheromones and endorphins exhumed from the emissions seeping from the pores that formed like tiny pearls over gold-bronzed limbs. A liquid that typically had driven men into a lustful insanity, before, straddling the fleshy-towers of masculine pinnacle where desire awaited the utopia’s of sexual satisfaction. Small punctures all along Xantlicha’s spine came to life, microscopic tendrils linked the xenophilian probe to the spine, tendrils flaying in whip-song as eight in unison grew like pharyngulan arms—some were thicker than the others and bore suction devices at the zeniths where suction caps protruded inside the toothless mouths. Six of these liana’s were obviously employed for traction or grasping, the others had smaller tubes within the main pipes were brutal fangs curved inwards (showing that whatever entered without restriction, would be shredded on extraction). A special protrusion at the rear just above the crevice resembled the metasoma of a scorpion-- five caudal segments including the telson to administer the toxins to paralyse and subdue victims. Tail apparatus able to be turned upwards and downwards a highly unusual and versatile tool which also played a vital part in the first stage of the breeding process.
Trembling in an endless series of blissful pulses traced their way up and down her trim body. Two transparent tendrils had wrapped around Lao’Taun’s ankles before spiralling upwards smoothly against his flesh. Once in position where the tips stroked the master’s inner thigh, bringing tail to caress in upwards groping towards the hardness of his member, brushing the tiny clusters of small mouths massaged along solid flesh before entwining around and applying gentle suctions of pressure. Lucent liquids workings as a lubricant, facilitating unobstructed advances in sync to tail rising to offer stimulation to erogenous zones prompting seductive congresses... caressing the skin to exploit the opening at its tip where slick, gooey coital elixirs of pungent pheromones. Hips rocked gently, enjoying the dominating incursions unleashed, letting out a gasp of anticipation while the tendrils moved upwards, wrapping his body and enveloping, securing position to lever and tease with the moistness and soft folds that awaited with crazed fervour.
Tendril curled and spun upwards, digging within her wet clingy confines, stimulating uterus to lift and poise itself for sexual union while relaxing for the upcoming procedure. Surrendered... rising with the seductive sensations until they peaked and she was rewarded with another, deeper climax. It always tickled in an erotic way as to tease the sanctums with serpent, urging on arousal when they grunted in the wanting—contact made very slight. Within the interiors, the main probe began to swell, exaggerating the sensations wanted to be felt with their bodies sexually unified. The billowing, throbbing, undulating organ worked against the pliable walls, tugging and pushing, slipping and sliding against her delicate intimate flesh. Pampering in turn his senses, propelling him to an impending, inevitable crescendo... oviducts and neurotoxin component administered through tubular funnel, sticking out from beneath the edge of the mantle, injecting it with aphrodisiac enzymes [TTX as a sex-pheromone].
Lao'Taun: Diversity was the Umarian signature, there was very few within the military arms that held a truly humanoid shape when the most primal of actions was called for: fight, flight or ..breed. Their nature enigmatic, strange and even scary to outsiders. The deployment of her innermost workings, tendrils, pearly fluids, and other chemicals that contained both the most potent of aphrodisiacs would of been considered obtuse to the frail minded Norians, well those who would of ever observed it anyway - it was unlikely the victim of her workings ever felt anything besides bliss within the heavy cloud of her deceptive chemicals. Glossy black eyes beheld her writhing, wriggling form in trance-like paralysis - inner cores tainting with vermillion fractures. His form was tense, rigid but not in lack of response but more within the fossilized statue-like esteem of matriarchy. His mouth clenched as the tendril enveloped the upper lengths of imperatrix endowment with each motion restraint was employed. The gurgling wash of neurotoxin and chemicals actually managed to at least bring effect, which was surprising. Although not deadly to him, it managed to be potent enough to induce a state of euphoria which exhumed along with the stimulation the tendril provided a deep disembodied and animalistic growl from the depths of his being. Sex and consumption at times became interchangeable within some species of the Umarian. It was common for some of their insectoid memberships to consume a mate following intercourse, a trait shared even by some of their aquatic members. Lao'Taun's euphoria was laced with deep seeded aggression, within the convulsions of pleasure came as well the restraint not to pleasurably terminate Xantlicha.
Beautiful brutality, locked within the allowances of temporary consent. He maintained his humanoid form, coated within the glistening pearl of her fluids that even soaked the deep purple stain of his hair. A grunt bore the depths of frustrations, the throbbing tendril enveloped member pulsating and engorging to the point wear it actually began to tear at the innermost tissues, her injections just brought him to a greater fullness. A strange predatory rattle echoed within the Cathedral, emitting from tiny spiracle-like orifices that became exposed within the strange markings that ascended his sculpted sides. He watched her, pleasuring herself, partaking of her own stimuli and that drove him yet further in desire. Tiny glandular swellings formed upon the pulsating rod which she still worked to stimulate within her tendril, the energetic discharge from them bearing similarity to the small subordinate creatures that hugged her nipples, now grinding and pinching at their raised forms. His strategies brewed, this erotic and animalistic engagement approached almost like war; he still permitted her advance to experience and observe her skill within it's greatest of functions. The tide with undoubtedly change later.
He reached forth with his right hand, grasping about the tendril in which she used to pleasure herself, he pulled it from her undulating folds roughly and replaced it with his fingers. Three fingers plunged within her, propelled upwards with nothing short of his exacted force, the rough pad of his thumb grinding against her swollen clitoral mound in matching succession with the movement of his fingers. Over and over he delivered them deeper within her depths, spreading them apart as if to prepare her for the girth of what awaited indulgence. It was gracious treatment, bestowing upon her as if she was a Queen worthy of holding the place next to him. Her gripping tendrils had ahold of him, ahold of the current form's vessel and he didn't work to change that, musculature flexing beneath her hold. "That's it, please your Master..." he urged her, mild spoken words in comparison to the vile coaxing that rustled within his mind. It took astounding restraint, that quickly began to dissolve as the concentrations of her chemicals worked within.
His free hand roamed her for a moment, before closing upon the tendril that been within her. His vice-like grip upon it violently brought it briefly towards his own lips as he licked her glistening juices from it's tip. An almost sadistic look came upon his face as he circled it's opening one final time with the lengthy muscle of his tongue before he jammed it on an upwards course. A dark, almost disembodied chuckle left him as he plugged her own tendril up between her own lips with enough force that it would hopefully hit the back of her throat. "You taste divine." hollow words echoed within the vesper link. "You like that don't you?" he would move to jam it in and out of her mouth in a suggestive fashion. His hips thrusting forwards, he drove his length busting up the length of her tendril as he let out another growl, he couldn't wait to see what else she intended to deploy. Such a good little slut, such a victory the absolution of the great leader desiring to pound you into a chaotic mess. The eventide, the umbral fortunes you unearth are such lush and bountiful harvests to his greatness. Your shrilling cries, a testimony to the power of the Umarian.
Beautiful brutality, locked within the allowances of temporary consent. He maintained his humanoid form, coated within the glistening pearl of her fluids that even soaked the deep purple stain of his hair. A grunt bore the depths of frustrations, the throbbing tendril enveloped member pulsating and engorging to the point wear it actually began to tear at the innermost tissues, her injections just brought him to a greater fullness. A strange predatory rattle echoed within the Cathedral, emitting from tiny spiracle-like orifices that became exposed within the strange markings that ascended his sculpted sides. He watched her, pleasuring herself, partaking of her own stimuli and that drove him yet further in desire. Tiny glandular swellings formed upon the pulsating rod which she still worked to stimulate within her tendril, the energetic discharge from them bearing similarity to the small subordinate creatures that hugged her nipples, now grinding and pinching at their raised forms. His strategies brewed, this erotic and animalistic engagement approached almost like war; he still permitted her advance to experience and observe her skill within it's greatest of functions. The tide with undoubtedly change later.
He reached forth with his right hand, grasping about the tendril in which she used to pleasure herself, he pulled it from her undulating folds roughly and replaced it with his fingers. Three fingers plunged within her, propelled upwards with nothing short of his exacted force, the rough pad of his thumb grinding against her swollen clitoral mound in matching succession with the movement of his fingers. Over and over he delivered them deeper within her depths, spreading them apart as if to prepare her for the girth of what awaited indulgence. It was gracious treatment, bestowing upon her as if she was a Queen worthy of holding the place next to him. Her gripping tendrils had ahold of him, ahold of the current form's vessel and he didn't work to change that, musculature flexing beneath her hold. "That's it, please your Master..." he urged her, mild spoken words in comparison to the vile coaxing that rustled within his mind. It took astounding restraint, that quickly began to dissolve as the concentrations of her chemicals worked within.
His free hand roamed her for a moment, before closing upon the tendril that been within her. His vice-like grip upon it violently brought it briefly towards his own lips as he licked her glistening juices from it's tip. An almost sadistic look came upon his face as he circled it's opening one final time with the lengthy muscle of his tongue before he jammed it on an upwards course. A dark, almost disembodied chuckle left him as he plugged her own tendril up between her own lips with enough force that it would hopefully hit the back of her throat. "You taste divine." hollow words echoed within the vesper link. "You like that don't you?" he would move to jam it in and out of her mouth in a suggestive fashion. His hips thrusting forwards, he drove his length busting up the length of her tendril as he let out another growl, he couldn't wait to see what else she intended to deploy. Such a good little slut, such a victory the absolution of the great leader desiring to pound you into a chaotic mess. The eventide, the umbral fortunes you unearth are such lush and bountiful harvests to his greatness. Your shrilling cries, a testimony to the power of the Umarian.
Xantlicha: Thighs glistened with the juices the master had granted permission and the release of; for it was only by his decree that those pleasures could be given. By his will, alone. It enticed her more and she opened that pleasure to Lao’Taun in offering both mentally and physically, with sugary fluids mingling and gathering soon enough to a soaking wet spot beneath writhing form while the tongue lashed more furiously between ecstasy and the utterances of his name in complete absolution and worship. Words became unintelligible as Xantlicha pleaded, begged, offered and thrashed under the ministries of the puppeteer, artfully plucking at the strings of wildest ambition. Tentacle-onanism, self-pollinating the tender bud that had sampled many men, but had only craved one—the disciples love never one of question for it always came with conviction. Animalistic growls only urging the screams of the harlot further, as they flung across the black emptiness of the chamber... intent to inveigle ‘his’ loins so they only burned for her.
Wicked designs forming like the whore upon her knees to confess—seeking to appease and be cleansed of all sin, meanwhile, his cravings satisfied with sadistic pleasures of her luscious body, giving all and granting every sexual masochistic fantasy, while hers finally became reality. Injections of toxins to expand the capillaries and contract the sphincter muscles (keeping those ‘flexed’) that even after his sexual release and gratification, the hardness would remain until tendrils uncoiled from that scrumptious and ardent member. Consistent strokes, eyes pinned on the muscular physique of Lao’Taun, as if suggesting via mental link to just lie back and receive these offerings, maintaining that eye contact with adorning and venerating glare. Pearly fluids providing more stimulus of aphrodisiacs, dual luminosity of purples and reds glistening over the wetness... other than moans and groans of delight, the only other sounds present were the squishy erotic sounds of fluidic adulation.
Thin tendrils rising from the main branches of the larger expanses, these tapered along structure of thighs to seek other advantages across the corona, tugging and sliding around only to apply circular pressure by squeezing while in unison to the up and down coercions. Even going to the liberty to coat his scrotum so that the fine hairs pierced the flesh to prevent ejaculation too quickly—tickling the nerve endings and bundles with the tips of electric wisps, tapping on various arousal points that lay hidden beneath the film of skin and travelled throughout the region, exploring every ounce of his chiselled form and erogenous zones. Combining a variety of moves, using direct communication and taking particular attention to the patterns of breath, noting what excited and what purged the tension of frustration or impatience from his mind, bringing it to focus directly on the matter, at hand.
Added stimulants pushed against the sensitive nubs of inner suctions, a testosterone-like chemical compound to incite a feral frenzy of lust and orgasmic discharge. Electrostimulation of breasts and erect nipples caused back to arch, pushing forth the offering of glistening folds that Lao’Taun’s fingers explored, and driving deep to the interiors—muscles gripping and grinding, clenching in firm appreciation, though it was obvious the trove had seen other explorers, and well used. “Please... master... let me serve you!” were the only audible words managed to escape flanked by high groans and crescendo rises in rasping disharmony. Appendage grabbed, pulled from the confinement within, adorned by the tip of tongue to lick aromatic fluids that would feel numb upon his palate.
Yet another surprise that rendered her victims sometimes impotent to the pleasure while she herself enjoyed it—denying them entirely of any gratification other than what grotesque horrors lay in wait from the vagina dentata. Thick feeler forced back into Xantlicha’s throat, hitting the tonsils that would have caused others to gag and convulse at the sheer pressure slamming against gullet, however, it only caused the jaw to dislocate, bestowing the vision of snake-like flexible lower jaw (disarticulation) to allow lips to close and suggestively suck, licking off whatever effluvia remained after his own lips had supped the nectars. [Vesper Link] well established... no willpower she was capable to break, “Yes master, for it is through your design my enjoyment spurs.”
Euphoric tone of the female’s voice purring through the link, utopia and the abyss all rolled up into this bundle of perverse and jovial escapades. Fanatical caprice and impatient to satisfy-- would he deny her that blessing and ultimate sanction for all her services, finally rewarded.
Wicked designs forming like the whore upon her knees to confess—seeking to appease and be cleansed of all sin, meanwhile, his cravings satisfied with sadistic pleasures of her luscious body, giving all and granting every sexual masochistic fantasy, while hers finally became reality. Injections of toxins to expand the capillaries and contract the sphincter muscles (keeping those ‘flexed’) that even after his sexual release and gratification, the hardness would remain until tendrils uncoiled from that scrumptious and ardent member. Consistent strokes, eyes pinned on the muscular physique of Lao’Taun, as if suggesting via mental link to just lie back and receive these offerings, maintaining that eye contact with adorning and venerating glare. Pearly fluids providing more stimulus of aphrodisiacs, dual luminosity of purples and reds glistening over the wetness... other than moans and groans of delight, the only other sounds present were the squishy erotic sounds of fluidic adulation.
Thin tendrils rising from the main branches of the larger expanses, these tapered along structure of thighs to seek other advantages across the corona, tugging and sliding around only to apply circular pressure by squeezing while in unison to the up and down coercions. Even going to the liberty to coat his scrotum so that the fine hairs pierced the flesh to prevent ejaculation too quickly—tickling the nerve endings and bundles with the tips of electric wisps, tapping on various arousal points that lay hidden beneath the film of skin and travelled throughout the region, exploring every ounce of his chiselled form and erogenous zones. Combining a variety of moves, using direct communication and taking particular attention to the patterns of breath, noting what excited and what purged the tension of frustration or impatience from his mind, bringing it to focus directly on the matter, at hand.
Added stimulants pushed against the sensitive nubs of inner suctions, a testosterone-like chemical compound to incite a feral frenzy of lust and orgasmic discharge. Electrostimulation of breasts and erect nipples caused back to arch, pushing forth the offering of glistening folds that Lao’Taun’s fingers explored, and driving deep to the interiors—muscles gripping and grinding, clenching in firm appreciation, though it was obvious the trove had seen other explorers, and well used. “Please... master... let me serve you!” were the only audible words managed to escape flanked by high groans and crescendo rises in rasping disharmony. Appendage grabbed, pulled from the confinement within, adorned by the tip of tongue to lick aromatic fluids that would feel numb upon his palate.
Yet another surprise that rendered her victims sometimes impotent to the pleasure while she herself enjoyed it—denying them entirely of any gratification other than what grotesque horrors lay in wait from the vagina dentata. Thick feeler forced back into Xantlicha’s throat, hitting the tonsils that would have caused others to gag and convulse at the sheer pressure slamming against gullet, however, it only caused the jaw to dislocate, bestowing the vision of snake-like flexible lower jaw (disarticulation) to allow lips to close and suggestively suck, licking off whatever effluvia remained after his own lips had supped the nectars. [Vesper Link] well established... no willpower she was capable to break, “Yes master, for it is through your design my enjoyment spurs.”
Euphoric tone of the female’s voice purring through the link, utopia and the abyss all rolled up into this bundle of perverse and jovial escapades. Fanatical caprice and impatient to satisfy-- would he deny her that blessing and ultimate sanction for all her services, finally rewarded.
Lao'Taun: Over time the offerings of the subordinate ranks were rich and bore luxury beyond those that could be afforded by some of the most wealthiest of rulers. To offer ones self upon the Master, risking sacrificial course that could very well leave even the most beautiful of forms eviscerated and wafting of chemical fumes like a pot of burning incense, was a motion of courage, and devotion that spoke volumes - especially those who did so permissively as worthy gifts of absent and higher members of the service. She begged, and pleaded, stroking ambitions and stone hardened strength both physically and metaphysically sending earned ego blooming with intent of further lustful appreciations. [Vesper] "Beneath mine hand you exist to serve. Such gratifying pleas heard with humour almost as if you had a choice to begin with." His words held her mind in vice, almost as if opposing the tendril binds she so effortlessly deployed upon his vessel. Suggestive resolve was captured within the movements, near bliss within their own rocketing directions they held his attention, yet some held but temporary restrain, to idle and enjoy was hardly within the scope of the man. The deployment of her measures were measured within the tastes of celestial ambrosia, further engorging and solidifying the towering member of Lao'Taun.
He withdrew his fingers from her, wet and slicked with the pearl fluids of her making. Such sweetness was enjoyed, long muscular tongue extracting every drop from them. Inpatient men often sat upon gem encrusted thrones and their sexual adventures often represented the same mind numbing course as their rule, weakened digits slipping over the bodies of whores that suck their entitlement from them like thirsty vampires - a course never stepped upon by this leader. Glossy black orbs with clouded vermilion epicentres regarded his War Maiden slut with the pride of knowing control, and the giving of deserved reward. Even with her powerful restrains, measures he was pleased and with minute disturbance to his own posture he ensure that his fleshy tool tore from her gifting appendage forcefully. Jaw-like grip of his hands upon her body bearing a bit of notch lowering display - he handled her like a doll, dragging her forwards within adjusted position to hover above that in which she begged. No commanded needed to be barked, for action alone carried the word which would allow her way, and their journey towards greater passion dripping union.
Sweet chemical intoxication deployed by them both, intermixing and potent biochemical warfare had heightened arousal, transparent lubricating salvations joining the flowing rivers of her own excretions upon his member which teased upon the velveteen lips of her entry. With little movement tip imposed and pressed back and forth over clitoral swellings to entice her. Her knees would feel the cold chitinous almost metallic frost of his throne as knotted and war worked digits groped and roamed about her morphed flesh. [Mind Grip] There was nothing dead about his resolve, it bore life and energy and unwavering confidence that produced mental pressures within the vesper permitted confines of her skull. Sweet melodic whispers, bore strange and cruel threats seeded amidst gratifying compliments within the connection, the only higher words reserved were those kept for expected dark flowers of expected returns.
It would of been expected, observances and course for him to merely permit and receive. Honour demanded more, worthwhile use of time was considered and highest of all the mere filling of need. Her own devices had been showed with great detail, even now she sucked upon her own tendril with invigorated passion - at his will. Beneath elder hand he would guide her, pressures of fingers inset upon flesh would command the desired path and flow as he pressured her to take him within.
He withdrew his fingers from her, wet and slicked with the pearl fluids of her making. Such sweetness was enjoyed, long muscular tongue extracting every drop from them. Inpatient men often sat upon gem encrusted thrones and their sexual adventures often represented the same mind numbing course as their rule, weakened digits slipping over the bodies of whores that suck their entitlement from them like thirsty vampires - a course never stepped upon by this leader. Glossy black orbs with clouded vermilion epicentres regarded his War Maiden slut with the pride of knowing control, and the giving of deserved reward. Even with her powerful restrains, measures he was pleased and with minute disturbance to his own posture he ensure that his fleshy tool tore from her gifting appendage forcefully. Jaw-like grip of his hands upon her body bearing a bit of notch lowering display - he handled her like a doll, dragging her forwards within adjusted position to hover above that in which she begged. No commanded needed to be barked, for action alone carried the word which would allow her way, and their journey towards greater passion dripping union.
Sweet chemical intoxication deployed by them both, intermixing and potent biochemical warfare had heightened arousal, transparent lubricating salvations joining the flowing rivers of her own excretions upon his member which teased upon the velveteen lips of her entry. With little movement tip imposed and pressed back and forth over clitoral swellings to entice her. Her knees would feel the cold chitinous almost metallic frost of his throne as knotted and war worked digits groped and roamed about her morphed flesh. [Mind Grip] There was nothing dead about his resolve, it bore life and energy and unwavering confidence that produced mental pressures within the vesper permitted confines of her skull. Sweet melodic whispers, bore strange and cruel threats seeded amidst gratifying compliments within the connection, the only higher words reserved were those kept for expected dark flowers of expected returns.
It would of been expected, observances and course for him to merely permit and receive. Honour demanded more, worthwhile use of time was considered and highest of all the mere filling of need. Her own devices had been showed with great detail, even now she sucked upon her own tendril with invigorated passion - at his will. Beneath elder hand he would guide her, pressures of fingers inset upon flesh would command the desired path and flow as he pressured her to take him within.
Xantlicha: Continuing to move in that suggestive fashion as he watched with arduous, burning eyes, and as defined as she was, she was anything but perfection, her gracefulness and seductive allure however was, becoming instead a writhing tapestry of flesh and the creature that lurked beneath. Her bouquet was like the ocean herself, where gods could fall to the quake of leviathanic pleasures, universal and beyond mundane experience. Squalls of hellish lust flowing among tides; terrifying and alluring all at once and many men and women had been smothered by their screams when caught in the ardour of her throes. The air moved as she breathed, however slight, wisps of apprehension hanging as mist before them, enough to slow time to a crawl. Desire in fugue, explicit and endless...
Fingers that had dug to seek the best of her, gave the delicious feeling of being stretched and used, but perhaps preparing the flexible muscle for large and more decadent things. A pleasurable ache shot throughout—hitting all the right spots that caused body to buckle, writhing and squiring. Heat emanating like gaseous fumes with that enchanting sugary scent—like some alien orchid to induce men to the wickedness of a women’s ways; designed as Xantlicha was, to be the ultimate sexual being, inner walls were ribbed for pleasure. Botanical like tendrils not only writhed around but were rippling dramatically over sculptured muscles, granting waves of rippled stimuli dancing up and down in sharp caress. Small droplets of nectar were forming at the end of some of the tentacles.
Another wisp-like vine snaking transversely across the chest of Lao’Taun quickly finding his right nipple, rubbery head of extending appendage gently brushing across the nub with the durable electric-fibres, stroking and tweaking. Another found his left nipple matching the delicious motions being played out on the opposite nipple. Aiming to drive her master deeper into a haze of pleasure, just as smaller black liana-tongues parted from the fleshy-tissue of the tentacles licking in circular motions excruciatingly slow while the head of the serpent teased the supple folds between her legs. Another forming from the sides of one of the main branches, splitting through the slits that opened like mouths, snaking between his legs, seeking to fondle prostate gland to tease with back and forth gesticulation... presenting yet another offer to the master’s table.
Lower portions now dripping with the candied secretions to lure the snake to the hive, sleek with the liquids persuade at the command of his hand, narcotic flavours exploding upon the tongue of personal milky-sap, muscles relaxing, ready to accommodate the new girth should his wishes demand it to be so. Chasing climax, rocking head back and forth sucking wildly the limb amid trembling lips, clenching mouth every time it passed, resistance another impel muffled sounds of enjoyment. Presented praises echoing through the vesper link, singing his praises, reverent words of worship and those salacious to plead and beg, gifting her fruits for his taking. Despite the creeping feeling of being immobilized by the mind grip, legs moved astride, knees impressed against cold steel ready to embrace in eternal worship.
Only now able to mentally moan with the pleasure for the bulbous head of the bough within the mouth of had begun to swell, ready to burst with its own pearly seed—his gnarled hands wrapped around waist guiding forcefully the trajectory of his navigations. Thrust, viciously and victorious, the sweet pink flesh plundered and penetrated the hot channel, which flexed and clutched at his hardness immediately and, hungrily inciting buxom form of the submissive to arch in appreciation. Penetration. Unstoppable. Warm like liquid silk. The enormous length of smooth, muscle almost exploded from the sheath, driving its pointed tip into the very centre of the core.
Dentata clenching against the intrusion, not enough to sever but to add other interesting stimulations—to increase his pleasure beyond that or normality; it was why she had been perfect for the tasks appointed, an each initiated with a very low rate of failure. A impulsive, pleasure-filled groan escaping, eyes squeezed shut, bountiful breasts [Ilatarha] with their tiny, needle-like teeth in less than the time it takes a human to blink, further swallowed up her tan, erect nipples, engulfed them fully, fitted them like gloves, clamping down harder to the erected hardened flesh. Biting down, their mouths contracting, sinking those needles into the lining their sides with dozens of miniscule puncture wounds; chest heaving as body was ravaged in dual hungers, and ceremonial choirs.
Fingers that had dug to seek the best of her, gave the delicious feeling of being stretched and used, but perhaps preparing the flexible muscle for large and more decadent things. A pleasurable ache shot throughout—hitting all the right spots that caused body to buckle, writhing and squiring. Heat emanating like gaseous fumes with that enchanting sugary scent—like some alien orchid to induce men to the wickedness of a women’s ways; designed as Xantlicha was, to be the ultimate sexual being, inner walls were ribbed for pleasure. Botanical like tendrils not only writhed around but were rippling dramatically over sculptured muscles, granting waves of rippled stimuli dancing up and down in sharp caress. Small droplets of nectar were forming at the end of some of the tentacles.
Another wisp-like vine snaking transversely across the chest of Lao’Taun quickly finding his right nipple, rubbery head of extending appendage gently brushing across the nub with the durable electric-fibres, stroking and tweaking. Another found his left nipple matching the delicious motions being played out on the opposite nipple. Aiming to drive her master deeper into a haze of pleasure, just as smaller black liana-tongues parted from the fleshy-tissue of the tentacles licking in circular motions excruciatingly slow while the head of the serpent teased the supple folds between her legs. Another forming from the sides of one of the main branches, splitting through the slits that opened like mouths, snaking between his legs, seeking to fondle prostate gland to tease with back and forth gesticulation... presenting yet another offer to the master’s table.
Lower portions now dripping with the candied secretions to lure the snake to the hive, sleek with the liquids persuade at the command of his hand, narcotic flavours exploding upon the tongue of personal milky-sap, muscles relaxing, ready to accommodate the new girth should his wishes demand it to be so. Chasing climax, rocking head back and forth sucking wildly the limb amid trembling lips, clenching mouth every time it passed, resistance another impel muffled sounds of enjoyment. Presented praises echoing through the vesper link, singing his praises, reverent words of worship and those salacious to plead and beg, gifting her fruits for his taking. Despite the creeping feeling of being immobilized by the mind grip, legs moved astride, knees impressed against cold steel ready to embrace in eternal worship.
Only now able to mentally moan with the pleasure for the bulbous head of the bough within the mouth of had begun to swell, ready to burst with its own pearly seed—his gnarled hands wrapped around waist guiding forcefully the trajectory of his navigations. Thrust, viciously and victorious, the sweet pink flesh plundered and penetrated the hot channel, which flexed and clutched at his hardness immediately and, hungrily inciting buxom form of the submissive to arch in appreciation. Penetration. Unstoppable. Warm like liquid silk. The enormous length of smooth, muscle almost exploded from the sheath, driving its pointed tip into the very centre of the core.
Dentata clenching against the intrusion, not enough to sever but to add other interesting stimulations—to increase his pleasure beyond that or normality; it was why she had been perfect for the tasks appointed, an each initiated with a very low rate of failure. A impulsive, pleasure-filled groan escaping, eyes squeezed shut, bountiful breasts [Ilatarha] with their tiny, needle-like teeth in less than the time it takes a human to blink, further swallowed up her tan, erect nipples, engulfed them fully, fitted them like gloves, clamping down harder to the erected hardened flesh. Biting down, their mouths contracting, sinking those needles into the lining their sides with dozens of miniscule puncture wounds; chest heaving as body was ravaged in dual hungers, and ceremonial choirs.
Lao'Taun: The plateaus of pleasure bore no room for stoic resolve, yet within them commandment and order were still issued with the greatest guidance. Low baritone groans exhumed relaying the approval of issued stimulation, Xanctlicha a vessel of war, of sex, and now of his divine takings. Still, regardless of her performance internal fire desired greater heights and in time they would be taken, demanded and ensured with the same force in which he was known for wielding. The gripping rings of musculature, decadent ribbing were an unexpected and enjoyed addition as internal dentata gripped about his member which surged in reflex response. The responses were pronounced, almost as if the now slicked tower were to be withholding even greater structures within, stretching and flexing within the confines of her walls. His hands worked upon her, still with guiding force, even well used and trained he held her as if she was a virginal doll given for his taking.
[Mind Grip] As the vesper deepened his hold within her thoughts gained absolution, the imagery passed was nothing short of breathtaking, wondrous nebulous expanses scarred by war and the workings of their kind. Faceted deep within, upon the back of a leviathan their act seemed to move, he pushed the cathedral from her mind replacing it with the vast open star-fields visible from the Yughoshi's towering superstructure. [Mirrored Structure] Lao'Taun's adaptive nature had always been part of his strategy upon the battlefield, often times the enemy's own weapons appearing in mirror upon him to be used with greater skill against them. The same held true for the finer clandestine appendages of sexual engagement. Similar to Xantlicha's own sexual tendril, a single elongated structure pushed from beneath his flesh and whipped through the air. Modified end appearing more like that of the monolith upon which she rode as it drove towards the tight sphincter guarded hole of her posterior, end erupting in pearly lubrication as it made contact with her flesh.
There was no unappreciated offering, the air rich with intermixing chemical of their passions. It made the air heavy, drifting like a shore-bound fog bank through the interiors of the cathedral. Today she would be his choir, and with each passing moment she sung a more pleasing tune. His enjoyment of her though lacked no effort upon his part, toned and worked musculature within his legs visible and flexing as his floor planted feet were used to propel his lower body upwards, not only meeting her movements but excelling them in power and quickness, sending the crown of his scepter crashing upon inner softness that bore more nerve structure. Like a lightning rod, his form seemed to redirect power, the mere lustful flame burned in excess and was delivered within small neural shocks along his towering length.[Vesper] Precious slave, flying-buttress to the monument of greatness. I seek the fury of your passions, your delights. Feel honoured for in this moment, my lips bring brief reverence to you. Appreciation, enjoyment and approval of your offerings. Within my influence, under my hand you shall endure so long as my approval is carried upon you. Wear my shackles proudly War Maiden, today you please celestia's lord!
Once more his left hand lifted from her vessel, grabbing hold of the tendril he had jammed between her lips. He worked to aide it's movement, back and forth each time harmlessly ensuring it reached just slightly beyond the depths of proceeding drive. He could tell it's swelling form was about to deliver some kind of greater purpose. The mere sounds it made as it worked between her lips drove him, his hand that remained upon her in guiding fashion ensuring that she took all of him upon each descending movement. This was only the beginning, as with war and scholarly pursuits the Umarian leader intended to ensure that the indulgence was complete. It was still undecided what the end of that course would bring, dead or alive her hide truly belonged to one of his higher servants. [Brand] Energy was within abundance, thanks to the success of her pleasures diverted partially to ensure longevity and with purpose. Like a hot iron, driven by the manifestation of his will he caused the pyramidal glyph of his personal mark to catch aflame within the air. It sought refuge upon the same vessel in which had brought him to such heights flaming brand distorting the air as it pressed towards the right side of her neck. This act bore no promise with it though, freshly branded or not her fate would be still undecided. Her workings stood in judgement -- cherished sexual exhalations.
[Mind Grip] As the vesper deepened his hold within her thoughts gained absolution, the imagery passed was nothing short of breathtaking, wondrous nebulous expanses scarred by war and the workings of their kind. Faceted deep within, upon the back of a leviathan their act seemed to move, he pushed the cathedral from her mind replacing it with the vast open star-fields visible from the Yughoshi's towering superstructure. [Mirrored Structure] Lao'Taun's adaptive nature had always been part of his strategy upon the battlefield, often times the enemy's own weapons appearing in mirror upon him to be used with greater skill against them. The same held true for the finer clandestine appendages of sexual engagement. Similar to Xantlicha's own sexual tendril, a single elongated structure pushed from beneath his flesh and whipped through the air. Modified end appearing more like that of the monolith upon which she rode as it drove towards the tight sphincter guarded hole of her posterior, end erupting in pearly lubrication as it made contact with her flesh.
There was no unappreciated offering, the air rich with intermixing chemical of their passions. It made the air heavy, drifting like a shore-bound fog bank through the interiors of the cathedral. Today she would be his choir, and with each passing moment she sung a more pleasing tune. His enjoyment of her though lacked no effort upon his part, toned and worked musculature within his legs visible and flexing as his floor planted feet were used to propel his lower body upwards, not only meeting her movements but excelling them in power and quickness, sending the crown of his scepter crashing upon inner softness that bore more nerve structure. Like a lightning rod, his form seemed to redirect power, the mere lustful flame burned in excess and was delivered within small neural shocks along his towering length.[Vesper] Precious slave, flying-buttress to the monument of greatness. I seek the fury of your passions, your delights. Feel honoured for in this moment, my lips bring brief reverence to you. Appreciation, enjoyment and approval of your offerings. Within my influence, under my hand you shall endure so long as my approval is carried upon you. Wear my shackles proudly War Maiden, today you please celestia's lord!
Once more his left hand lifted from her vessel, grabbing hold of the tendril he had jammed between her lips. He worked to aide it's movement, back and forth each time harmlessly ensuring it reached just slightly beyond the depths of proceeding drive. He could tell it's swelling form was about to deliver some kind of greater purpose. The mere sounds it made as it worked between her lips drove him, his hand that remained upon her in guiding fashion ensuring that she took all of him upon each descending movement. This was only the beginning, as with war and scholarly pursuits the Umarian leader intended to ensure that the indulgence was complete. It was still undecided what the end of that course would bring, dead or alive her hide truly belonged to one of his higher servants. [Brand] Energy was within abundance, thanks to the success of her pleasures diverted partially to ensure longevity and with purpose. Like a hot iron, driven by the manifestation of his will he caused the pyramidal glyph of his personal mark to catch aflame within the air. It sought refuge upon the same vessel in which had brought him to such heights flaming brand distorting the air as it pressed towards the right side of her neck. This act bore no promise with it though, freshly branded or not her fate would be still undecided. Her workings stood in judgement -- cherished sexual exhalations.
Xantlicha: Lao’Taun—her beloved master, gathered up her delicious secretions with one expert flourish after another, pausing now and then to tend to the surface of inner walls, encouraging their spasms and contractions by exploring every inch of her sweet, fragrant channel. Scaled lips sucking ravenously at the engorged tendril that stuffed the fullness of mouth, stretching lips to thin lines of flushed pink the ability to dislodge jaw, engaged, presenting wider discoveries and sensations all for the master’s pleasure and in turn he offered her sexual relief. Oceanic-green orbs watching the tendrils work to stimulate his glorious physique that was much like a God in all its perfections. His beauty gave her course to stimulate herself. Amorous eyes grew wider as the expanding girth of his hardened length, slick and warm, began to pour itself into her body, surging into her abdomen and then forcefully thrusting before its withdrawal.
Stomach tensing as the hot length of muscle shoved itself maliciously in and out of contracting ribbed passage, massaging from the inside out. Hips rocking, grinding and thrashing in the taloned grasp, tongue working frantically more against the tentacle, the burrowing muscle nearly defeating her, but this was all part of the tryst, the discipline to endure all that he demanded. Even as scenes and schemes altered only within Xantlicha’s mind, merging from the structure of the cathedral to one of more voidic appeals... of desolate black oceans, and the light of lonely plains. Dead moons that wander in the wastes of space floating haunted in the drift of nebulous haze, an ever-aching loneliness in vaster solitudes-- a madness in itself along with the agonies and the glories of their unholy union, a ceremony of absolution. Fiery emerald eyes of the woman, glistening with tears, hid themselves beneath lashes and lids, body submitting to the beautiful, horrific, pleasurable sensations of the experience.
Muscles of posterior contracting upon the invading tendril of his design... dicey, soft length forced and writhed past the last of Xantlicha’s restrictive vistas, within her with renewed fervour, stroking tensing walls with lavish flicks and puncturing motions to stimulate orgasmic gratification. Hips were held at bay, forced to accept the invader; as the vine-like tendril pulsed as it fed its coiled, hidden lengths of unyielding flesh into her rear, stretching the entrance of her tunnel now covered in the slippery, clear substance which his glands produced to lubricate its victim. He held her in place, shaking sharply when an attempted to pull free was made, until her struggles, at last, subsided, the vine of muscle embedded firmly, impossible to dislodge until it was quite finished with its wicked intentions as she moaned and sobbed against the intensifying appendage engorging gullet.
Smaller filaments snaking across Lao’Taun’s body, static electric folliculitis, tingling at first before the microscopic hormonal needles pierced his body to infuse yet another sensation that possibly wasn’t as severe as it had been to other victims fallen to the ambrosial promises of perfumed chasms. Psychophysiological (tactile, visual, olfactory and aural)—stimulatory effects elicited with toxic doses until the appropriate symptom is achieved, and in this case it wasn’t so nefarious, only to increase sexual desire... for her, loving how he kept her on the edge of orgasm. Heart thumping and almost hyperventilating with anticipation for the tide slowly coming to a ‘peak’; another free tentacle reached up and amorously stroked its way, barely touching, from the nape of his neck, all the way down to lower spine, lovingly, like a how a pet would stroke or swoon about the legs.
Delicately, the thin probe stroked across the region of his entry, muscular and prehensile limbs pressing and flicking with feathered strokes while powerfully hardened member assailed and plundered... how it slid and rubbed against the stuff clitoral corm, tip pressing against her cervix with each thrust. Until the burning sensation hit the side of cheek, branding her with HIS mark, Xantlicha had managed to maintain control, but the surmounting pleasure that tickled the insides, and the superb sting of his torturous wanting. When the first orgasm hit it was devastating, losing what little control over her body, back twisting and the tendrils that were free and not gripping or tweaking the erogenous areas of Lao’s most provoking regions.
Toes curled, head thrashing back and forth, mouth devouring the offers of seminal salty fluids spurting upon tongue that only made the being suck harder. Compulsion. Lust. Manipulation: were the forces that compelled the beast beneath painted female flesh; turgid, ovipositor, whips thrashing, a dozen ghostlike hands brushed over Lao’Taun’s form, perhaps easing out knots of tension he hadn't realised he had—all these delicious fruits of temptation were served on the table of his bounty, mental disembodied feminine sighs and screams filled the air, no longer able to be silent or satisfied just with the muffled groans escaping from behind fleshy gag. The sensation was appetizing -- it could be mouth, vagina, anus or some other unspeakable orifice.
Hot tingling heat coming from down below, clenching the interior teeth around the throbbing hardness, granting the knowledge that, any second now, he could release his seed into it and sink back into the ghostly embrace. But more so, how she wanted him... to fill her in every way possible. Longing for him, cooed voices in soft seductive tones with words that no one or nothing could please him like she could, to pamper the hedonistic ego with the exaltations of worship, as if his body was the altar she sacrificed herself upon, the dagger plunged to the hilt in the sleekness of the temple. Hymns sung in his praise. Responding in the primal animal way her body was programmed... a sex toy to satisfy its dark sexual urges.
Stomach tensing as the hot length of muscle shoved itself maliciously in and out of contracting ribbed passage, massaging from the inside out. Hips rocking, grinding and thrashing in the taloned grasp, tongue working frantically more against the tentacle, the burrowing muscle nearly defeating her, but this was all part of the tryst, the discipline to endure all that he demanded. Even as scenes and schemes altered only within Xantlicha’s mind, merging from the structure of the cathedral to one of more voidic appeals... of desolate black oceans, and the light of lonely plains. Dead moons that wander in the wastes of space floating haunted in the drift of nebulous haze, an ever-aching loneliness in vaster solitudes-- a madness in itself along with the agonies and the glories of their unholy union, a ceremony of absolution. Fiery emerald eyes of the woman, glistening with tears, hid themselves beneath lashes and lids, body submitting to the beautiful, horrific, pleasurable sensations of the experience.
Muscles of posterior contracting upon the invading tendril of his design... dicey, soft length forced and writhed past the last of Xantlicha’s restrictive vistas, within her with renewed fervour, stroking tensing walls with lavish flicks and puncturing motions to stimulate orgasmic gratification. Hips were held at bay, forced to accept the invader; as the vine-like tendril pulsed as it fed its coiled, hidden lengths of unyielding flesh into her rear, stretching the entrance of her tunnel now covered in the slippery, clear substance which his glands produced to lubricate its victim. He held her in place, shaking sharply when an attempted to pull free was made, until her struggles, at last, subsided, the vine of muscle embedded firmly, impossible to dislodge until it was quite finished with its wicked intentions as she moaned and sobbed against the intensifying appendage engorging gullet.
Smaller filaments snaking across Lao’Taun’s body, static electric folliculitis, tingling at first before the microscopic hormonal needles pierced his body to infuse yet another sensation that possibly wasn’t as severe as it had been to other victims fallen to the ambrosial promises of perfumed chasms. Psychophysiological (tactile, visual, olfactory and aural)—stimulatory effects elicited with toxic doses until the appropriate symptom is achieved, and in this case it wasn’t so nefarious, only to increase sexual desire... for her, loving how he kept her on the edge of orgasm. Heart thumping and almost hyperventilating with anticipation for the tide slowly coming to a ‘peak’; another free tentacle reached up and amorously stroked its way, barely touching, from the nape of his neck, all the way down to lower spine, lovingly, like a how a pet would stroke or swoon about the legs.
Delicately, the thin probe stroked across the region of his entry, muscular and prehensile limbs pressing and flicking with feathered strokes while powerfully hardened member assailed and plundered... how it slid and rubbed against the stuff clitoral corm, tip pressing against her cervix with each thrust. Until the burning sensation hit the side of cheek, branding her with HIS mark, Xantlicha had managed to maintain control, but the surmounting pleasure that tickled the insides, and the superb sting of his torturous wanting. When the first orgasm hit it was devastating, losing what little control over her body, back twisting and the tendrils that were free and not gripping or tweaking the erogenous areas of Lao’s most provoking regions.
Toes curled, head thrashing back and forth, mouth devouring the offers of seminal salty fluids spurting upon tongue that only made the being suck harder. Compulsion. Lust. Manipulation: were the forces that compelled the beast beneath painted female flesh; turgid, ovipositor, whips thrashing, a dozen ghostlike hands brushed over Lao’Taun’s form, perhaps easing out knots of tension he hadn't realised he had—all these delicious fruits of temptation were served on the table of his bounty, mental disembodied feminine sighs and screams filled the air, no longer able to be silent or satisfied just with the muffled groans escaping from behind fleshy gag. The sensation was appetizing -- it could be mouth, vagina, anus or some other unspeakable orifice.
Hot tingling heat coming from down below, clenching the interior teeth around the throbbing hardness, granting the knowledge that, any second now, he could release his seed into it and sink back into the ghostly embrace. But more so, how she wanted him... to fill her in every way possible. Longing for him, cooed voices in soft seductive tones with words that no one or nothing could please him like she could, to pamper the hedonistic ego with the exaltations of worship, as if his body was the altar she sacrificed herself upon, the dagger plunged to the hilt in the sleekness of the temple. Hymns sung in his praise. Responding in the primal animal way her body was programmed... a sex toy to satisfy its dark sexual urges.
Lao'Taun: Upon her, his mark had been placed. The vermilion glyph would burn with far more than just the searing heat but connection as well. She was his now, his to be used to the ends of his dark means. He seemed to bask within the heat which showered from her writhing and pulsating form and as she climbed to the heights of her first orgasmic release, he held her tightly still guiding her fluid descents and rises. Her quake, voluptuous form crashing and surrendering to the pulsations of release caused his form to tense, muscles constricting as to resist the urge to be drawn to such heights himself. Regardless of required restraint, he took great pleasure in her actions. [Mind Grip] Explosive concussions resounded within the distance within the star painted void his mind provided to hers. Plasmatic and nebulous plumes flooding with colour to illuminate their forms upon the back of the mighty leviathan. Upon a course within the open seas of the stars, the voids bore the presence of their Master, pleasured and content with his precious slave. [Vesper] With such vigour you serve and with the entirety of your form, such lush sweetness you provide.
He could of easily let himself be washed away in the bliss of her workings, but desire had surpassed mere observances. Form tensed beneath hers, and with a sudden movement he forced himself upwards, plowing his member into the deepest point of her ribbed passage. Forcing them both up and out of the throne, his hands curled under her thighs, handling her once more like a doll as he smashed her up against one of the monoliths with such force the volumetric projection system would shatter, sending a spray of sparks showering down behind her until the terminal deactivated. The way he suspended her against it placed most of the pressure on her upper back to allow the tendril embedded in her posterior to be free to move. With renewed power, speed and resolve the alternating thrusts of the tendril and his throbbing tower he displayed his brutal dominance. Low monstrous growls emitted within as if flaming pits of enraged beasts were to inhabit his interiors, the battle of flesh on flesh raging with each thrust which drove him closer to an explosive culmination.
He reached up briefly, just long enough to dislodge her tendril from her own mouth. [Mirror Structure] Another inky black tendril of seemingly phallic design emerged from his back. Telescoping outwards as it thickened and crept through the air like some kind of blind sea creature. Pearly white ambrosia kissed fluid spewed from it's core as it's tip took on the unmistakable mushroom-like cap. It appeared the measure of her oral skills were still within test, he drove the dripping, writing, and undulating mass past the part of her lips, grunting as it worked its way to the back of her throat. It was thicker than the one she had produced, stretching the dislodged jaw with slightly more pressure. The ignition of internal embers; a flame burning with lustful and passionate rage as he thrust into her depths as if to uncover the carnal secrets of her unmatched skill.
Such ventures however didn't come without a price though, another low venomous his resounded from the spiracle-like holes in his sides as his muscular fluxed and subsided again. He was fighting it, the quivering restraints of withheld release drew his thrusts into ragged disarray and drive less synchronized. Each pass though the tensing construction of ribbed and slicked walls now heralded vocal resonance as his own baritone choirs filled the cathedral. [Vesper] Such a vicious creature...a beautiful test..a...ment to our....kind. The drumming of his voice within her mind now bore the same feral cries as those which echoed throughout the cathedral. A Master praised his precious subservient, the throbbing member within her depths exploding with thick and generous streams of his dark seed [Other Seed]. His entire form seemed to be overcome by the rocketing gasams of release, delivery so bountiful that it gushed from the edges of her flesh that was tightly wrapped about his. The expansions of his tower pressured firmly against the inner structures of her now filled and gushing interior.
His plight was far from finished, but the slightest taste of each other, these were but the opening games of this hedonistic tournament of carnal delights. Even following release he just seemed more hungered, the still throbbing and probing member within her still alternating thrusts with the rear drilling tendril which sought it's own release, swelling and working hard within the tight pink corridor.
He could of easily let himself be washed away in the bliss of her workings, but desire had surpassed mere observances. Form tensed beneath hers, and with a sudden movement he forced himself upwards, plowing his member into the deepest point of her ribbed passage. Forcing them both up and out of the throne, his hands curled under her thighs, handling her once more like a doll as he smashed her up against one of the monoliths with such force the volumetric projection system would shatter, sending a spray of sparks showering down behind her until the terminal deactivated. The way he suspended her against it placed most of the pressure on her upper back to allow the tendril embedded in her posterior to be free to move. With renewed power, speed and resolve the alternating thrusts of the tendril and his throbbing tower he displayed his brutal dominance. Low monstrous growls emitted within as if flaming pits of enraged beasts were to inhabit his interiors, the battle of flesh on flesh raging with each thrust which drove him closer to an explosive culmination.
He reached up briefly, just long enough to dislodge her tendril from her own mouth. [Mirror Structure] Another inky black tendril of seemingly phallic design emerged from his back. Telescoping outwards as it thickened and crept through the air like some kind of blind sea creature. Pearly white ambrosia kissed fluid spewed from it's core as it's tip took on the unmistakable mushroom-like cap. It appeared the measure of her oral skills were still within test, he drove the dripping, writing, and undulating mass past the part of her lips, grunting as it worked its way to the back of her throat. It was thicker than the one she had produced, stretching the dislodged jaw with slightly more pressure. The ignition of internal embers; a flame burning with lustful and passionate rage as he thrust into her depths as if to uncover the carnal secrets of her unmatched skill.
Such ventures however didn't come without a price though, another low venomous his resounded from the spiracle-like holes in his sides as his muscular fluxed and subsided again. He was fighting it, the quivering restraints of withheld release drew his thrusts into ragged disarray and drive less synchronized. Each pass though the tensing construction of ribbed and slicked walls now heralded vocal resonance as his own baritone choirs filled the cathedral. [Vesper] Such a vicious creature...a beautiful test..a...ment to our....kind. The drumming of his voice within her mind now bore the same feral cries as those which echoed throughout the cathedral. A Master praised his precious subservient, the throbbing member within her depths exploding with thick and generous streams of his dark seed [Other Seed]. His entire form seemed to be overcome by the rocketing gasams of release, delivery so bountiful that it gushed from the edges of her flesh that was tightly wrapped about his. The expansions of his tower pressured firmly against the inner structures of her now filled and gushing interior.
His plight was far from finished, but the slightest taste of each other, these were but the opening games of this hedonistic tournament of carnal delights. Even following release he just seemed more hungered, the still throbbing and probing member within her still alternating thrusts with the rear drilling tendril which sought it's own release, swelling and working hard within the tight pink corridor.
Xantlicha: Xantlicia felt Lao’Taun push past her every boundary. Vigorously, pressing against her soaking edges and inner openings each time he plunged inwards and just as viciously pulled outwards. Withdrawing himself only to batter the velvety walls again with vehemence. Waves of pleasure radiated from the creatures pelvis, feeling the waves of ultimate pleasure soar and rise from the very pits of her creation. The orgasm forming was a testament to his greatness, and the sensations just as divine as ‘HE’. Entire form tensed, seizing her, powerful muscles gripping around the firmness of manhood, tighter and longer every time pelvic muscles painfully clenched permitting the dentate to also grip. Sharp edges although not prepared for war... were prepared to ensnare him more between the thighs of a lover. There, her perceptions hovered, breathing in sharp gasps, as pangs of conquest continued to ravish.
Agile legs prepared for movement, left leg moving from his side to rise, resting heel on the surface of the throne (or what she saw was the back of a leviathan). Changing angular position to rise, giving ‘deeper’ access to the sweetness of the saturated chasm, slick with the sexual fluids of their union and the seas that swept to drown Xantlicia’s shores—nerves shuddering. Lurching forward, breasts aching at the [Ilatarha] still attached, clamping down more upon nipples, fervently, sucking and fastening themselves onto the flesh with sharp suctions and electrical stimulations. Wounds inflicted on the sensitive nubs were not particularly severe, but ichors flowed freely and the tendrils nursed her wounds with protruding tongues, contently pulsing. Leathery lashes flaying where the black trails of inkish blood trickled, lapping at the bounty which was given—stimulating the wounds even as they deepened them, protruding inside the split ruptures of her flesh.
Tentacles writhed like snakes, seeking the warm sheath between the firm cheeks of her rear. Demandingly, her master called forth the wailing crescendos of pleasure. To fuel the cathedral and spaces with the sirens call to bring him crashing against the jagged cliffs of his own pleasure and release. Another vine-like lash rose, though this one possessed small suction caps that clamped between her milky- drenched thighs. The other, of apex lovingly caressing against the confines of his hollow, offering unbound and explicit ventures to incite his own release—claws rising while arms moved over his shoulders. Digging their tips sharply into flesh, holding him in place as his hands grasped around her hips, before guiding the rapid and violent commandment of his wishes through the direction of hip flexes, along with the dance of circling hips and panting whims of the submissive unto her master.
The tentacle being lavishly sucked upon, bulging, forcing cruel-vermillion lips to widen more,- a blob of viscous fluid squirting, filling her mouth with the chemical concoction of sexual stimulants and hallucinogenic enhancers [Love’s Twisted Mirrors—that typically had been designed in the last resort should a target refuse sexual advances. Instead of seeing her, they would see the one they desired. However, it also worked as a rapid narcotic to bring about ultimate euphoria, similar to the effects of opium] Claws ripping against the firm structure of Lao’s shoulder blades, then wildly sweeping downwards where scarlet trails would follow. Toes curling to the surges and impulses propelling throes beyond normality, rocking back and forth wildly, riding the serpent as if she was the whore of Babylon (which in replica wasn’t far from truth) .
Creamy lubricant cued by the musky scent of sweat and sex that now filled the massive domed cathedral, an amassed coil of ropy tentacles wrapped around both their figures caught in the trysts of vicious sex. Tiny needle-like barbs injecting pores with hormone-enraged inducers, to drive orgasmic release even higher, the energies required to offer fuel to the glistening spires—energies that Xantlicia herself did not possess nor capable of. Now stretched and delirious, a new pressure meeting her cervix, and around the throbbing metal-hardness of his muscle. Lost amidst the sensation by this unseen liana rubbing harshly against clitoral bud and indeed within the walls of her interior another wrapping around the virulent head where electrical surges and flutters would inspire results with sharpened agonies to delicate skin.
Agile legs prepared for movement, left leg moving from his side to rise, resting heel on the surface of the throne (or what she saw was the back of a leviathan). Changing angular position to rise, giving ‘deeper’ access to the sweetness of the saturated chasm, slick with the sexual fluids of their union and the seas that swept to drown Xantlicia’s shores—nerves shuddering. Lurching forward, breasts aching at the [Ilatarha] still attached, clamping down more upon nipples, fervently, sucking and fastening themselves onto the flesh with sharp suctions and electrical stimulations. Wounds inflicted on the sensitive nubs were not particularly severe, but ichors flowed freely and the tendrils nursed her wounds with protruding tongues, contently pulsing. Leathery lashes flaying where the black trails of inkish blood trickled, lapping at the bounty which was given—stimulating the wounds even as they deepened them, protruding inside the split ruptures of her flesh.
Tentacles writhed like snakes, seeking the warm sheath between the firm cheeks of her rear. Demandingly, her master called forth the wailing crescendos of pleasure. To fuel the cathedral and spaces with the sirens call to bring him crashing against the jagged cliffs of his own pleasure and release. Another vine-like lash rose, though this one possessed small suction caps that clamped between her milky- drenched thighs. The other, of apex lovingly caressing against the confines of his hollow, offering unbound and explicit ventures to incite his own release—claws rising while arms moved over his shoulders. Digging their tips sharply into flesh, holding him in place as his hands grasped around her hips, before guiding the rapid and violent commandment of his wishes through the direction of hip flexes, along with the dance of circling hips and panting whims of the submissive unto her master.
The tentacle being lavishly sucked upon, bulging, forcing cruel-vermillion lips to widen more,- a blob of viscous fluid squirting, filling her mouth with the chemical concoction of sexual stimulants and hallucinogenic enhancers [Love’s Twisted Mirrors—that typically had been designed in the last resort should a target refuse sexual advances. Instead of seeing her, they would see the one they desired. However, it also worked as a rapid narcotic to bring about ultimate euphoria, similar to the effects of opium] Claws ripping against the firm structure of Lao’s shoulder blades, then wildly sweeping downwards where scarlet trails would follow. Toes curling to the surges and impulses propelling throes beyond normality, rocking back and forth wildly, riding the serpent as if she was the whore of Babylon (which in replica wasn’t far from truth) .
Creamy lubricant cued by the musky scent of sweat and sex that now filled the massive domed cathedral, an amassed coil of ropy tentacles wrapped around both their figures caught in the trysts of vicious sex. Tiny needle-like barbs injecting pores with hormone-enraged inducers, to drive orgasmic release even higher, the energies required to offer fuel to the glistening spires—energies that Xantlicia herself did not possess nor capable of. Now stretched and delirious, a new pressure meeting her cervix, and around the throbbing metal-hardness of his muscle. Lost amidst the sensation by this unseen liana rubbing harshly against clitoral bud and indeed within the walls of her interior another wrapping around the virulent head where electrical surges and flutters would inspire results with sharpened agonies to delicate skin.
Lao'Taun: Within this garden are many, tangled within my vines is my moon flower - she shall take the men of self-proclaimed greatness and bring them crashing to their knees at the sway of her hips!
For even his whore bore allure, with selected use and guidance of hand and knuckle she was echelon's above even the most decorated of royalty on the outside - yet bounds beneath the concubine he so suitably pictured within his mind. Her loudest cries were but the strands of the rhythmic melody to which urged him further and further - he crashed upon her shores with unrelenting might. The monolith smouldered, sparks spraying again from it as the mere strength at which he sent her crashing against it. Her opiates didn't subdue him at all, the Celestial Lord made ho apologies either hammering into her interior with superior brute and speed, sending the crown of his member charging against her cervix. [Vesper] "My gifts are such sweet reward for your gracious offerings..." He whispered through the link, as the digits of his left hand began to curl about her throat beneath the dislocated drop of her jaw. The knotted, combat-forged abrasion of his touch closing tightly about her neck, only by the mere chance of motion loosening briefly upon every deepening thrust.
The tendril buried within her rear began to wriggle and throb, upon the verge of a secondary release. He grunted, the tendril swelling with the alternating thrusts he provided her, switching the motion between it and his throbbing manhood which explored the dentata lined cavern to its depths. As the pressure built, so did the tightness at which he clenched her throat, a likely superficial attempted at affixia as that most of their represented species didn't breath at all - at least in the traditional sense. If anything he provided her with another sensation, vested within his potency. The great monolith upon which he braced her began to crack and break with each bone shattering clash of their bodies. A masculine growl left his lips in an almost venomous manner as the tentacle plunged into her tight behind for the last time, it's end seemed to explode within her, sending wave after wave of sticky white seed deep into her. The throbbing burst so intense, he could feel it's undulation through the membranes of her craving pink hole. The minor release bore nothing of relief to her however, now used and used again he held her by the throat as if she were some marionette doll set there for his amusement, sacrificed upon the spire of his ambition.
For a second, it almost seemed as if he was going to pull out of her, jerking backwards with enough motion to tug upon the tendrils she had coiled about his lower legs. The pressure upon her neck remained, and just as the monolith console shattered sending a green flare of flames into the air - he pulled her back, sparing her the singe only to push her back-down against the floor. He had managed to do so without completely withdrawing, grunting as her tendrils tightened, and the internal tongue-like appendages clutched against him. He crashed to his knees, flowing with her motion. The sound was near bone shattering, but didn't hinder him in the slightest, rocking forwards to deliver her wave upon wave of impending pleasure. He ripped the tendril he had shoved down her throat out, wanting the entire Starplex to hear her praises, to listen to her climactic chorus and the pleading which would likely follow it.
His free left hand uncoiled from her legs, after situating them so that they braced against his chest. Lao'Taun was now ready to deliver upon her the gift which had been originally intended. He flicked his wrist outwards, revealing the spine. [Shogola's Spine] The sac-like reservoir at the base of the spine had filled. The fluid, a dark green colour was a femtomechanical cocktail that would settle within the lubrication glands of her genitalia that would provide her with a natural ability to restore the purity of her form. He watched her, keeping the exacted motions of his lips as if to guide her towards the next crescendo, so that at it's peak he could drive the hypodermic spine into her side, to deliver his conjured blessing. [Vesper] "Beg your Master for his gifts..." he whispered into her mind, "Beg or you shall be put to rest upon this, our bed of lust and indulgence!"
For even his whore bore allure, with selected use and guidance of hand and knuckle she was echelon's above even the most decorated of royalty on the outside - yet bounds beneath the concubine he so suitably pictured within his mind. Her loudest cries were but the strands of the rhythmic melody to which urged him further and further - he crashed upon her shores with unrelenting might. The monolith smouldered, sparks spraying again from it as the mere strength at which he sent her crashing against it. Her opiates didn't subdue him at all, the Celestial Lord made ho apologies either hammering into her interior with superior brute and speed, sending the crown of his member charging against her cervix. [Vesper] "My gifts are such sweet reward for your gracious offerings..." He whispered through the link, as the digits of his left hand began to curl about her throat beneath the dislocated drop of her jaw. The knotted, combat-forged abrasion of his touch closing tightly about her neck, only by the mere chance of motion loosening briefly upon every deepening thrust.
The tendril buried within her rear began to wriggle and throb, upon the verge of a secondary release. He grunted, the tendril swelling with the alternating thrusts he provided her, switching the motion between it and his throbbing manhood which explored the dentata lined cavern to its depths. As the pressure built, so did the tightness at which he clenched her throat, a likely superficial attempted at affixia as that most of their represented species didn't breath at all - at least in the traditional sense. If anything he provided her with another sensation, vested within his potency. The great monolith upon which he braced her began to crack and break with each bone shattering clash of their bodies. A masculine growl left his lips in an almost venomous manner as the tentacle plunged into her tight behind for the last time, it's end seemed to explode within her, sending wave after wave of sticky white seed deep into her. The throbbing burst so intense, he could feel it's undulation through the membranes of her craving pink hole. The minor release bore nothing of relief to her however, now used and used again he held her by the throat as if she were some marionette doll set there for his amusement, sacrificed upon the spire of his ambition.
For a second, it almost seemed as if he was going to pull out of her, jerking backwards with enough motion to tug upon the tendrils she had coiled about his lower legs. The pressure upon her neck remained, and just as the monolith console shattered sending a green flare of flames into the air - he pulled her back, sparing her the singe only to push her back-down against the floor. He had managed to do so without completely withdrawing, grunting as her tendrils tightened, and the internal tongue-like appendages clutched against him. He crashed to his knees, flowing with her motion. The sound was near bone shattering, but didn't hinder him in the slightest, rocking forwards to deliver her wave upon wave of impending pleasure. He ripped the tendril he had shoved down her throat out, wanting the entire Starplex to hear her praises, to listen to her climactic chorus and the pleading which would likely follow it.
His free left hand uncoiled from her legs, after situating them so that they braced against his chest. Lao'Taun was now ready to deliver upon her the gift which had been originally intended. He flicked his wrist outwards, revealing the spine. [Shogola's Spine] The sac-like reservoir at the base of the spine had filled. The fluid, a dark green colour was a femtomechanical cocktail that would settle within the lubrication glands of her genitalia that would provide her with a natural ability to restore the purity of her form. He watched her, keeping the exacted motions of his lips as if to guide her towards the next crescendo, so that at it's peak he could drive the hypodermic spine into her side, to deliver his conjured blessing. [Vesper] "Beg your Master for his gifts..." he whispered into her mind, "Beg or you shall be put to rest upon this, our bed of lust and indulgence!"
Xantlicha: Her body torqued against its leathery restraints and she came in sweet agony-- nothing would ever please her like this again. Each thrust throwing the submissive’s entire body back and forth in its bonds, handled like a doll in the embraces of its maker, and unto her, Lao’Taun’s was in every sense, a God, worthy of worship and devotion. Pleasure had long overtaken the pain, the muffled whimpers of pain turned into contented screams crested with the holiness of his name transcending upwards into the black spires of the Cathedral. The last of her sobriety screaming in orgasmic wave upon wave, bucking her hips violently to the inspiration of his rhythm. My memetic curse held Xantlicia to every motion and demanded that she remembered each release even after the pangs of her master’s releases and rises of further more sadistic adventures in order to provoke torturous images of a foolish heart. A life that wasn’t her’s to have; yet in the very sense a love was expressed as dark as it was in nature to what it was in lust. Even with the loud audible cracks of bones breaking at the pressure and strength of Lao’s powerful thrusts...
The restraints surrounding limbs, was only an added stimulant to each and every sensation that flooded and assailed; the firm grasp around throat stifled any outlet of inhalation or exhalation. It burned within the lungs, asphyxia of breath caused orgasmic contractions to tighten around his hardened limb in sporadic clenches and releases. Tendrils swept over her ravishing physique, some stroking upwards and around Lao’Taun’s own muscle, flicking against hot flesh like a giant tongue leaving the wettest trail. Others smaller anemone-like florets stimulating the erected rose-bud of her clitoris, stopping to gently suck upon it then slap against it inciting a mild sting that made her scream and beg for more. As too with the tendrils like flickered and danced across the tautness of his rear passage—non-bulbous, tenderly rubbing up against his prostate.
Reddened welts appearing over arms and legs, spreading over flesh like a hungry fire starting on the edge of her tastebuds to everywhere on Xantlicia’s body that sweat is now dripping and falling over the horizons and edges of limbs to the crown of her focused brow. Temperature continuously rising, feeding upon itself, heat ascending from the narcotic state, inspired by the toxins and poisons of her beloved master. Breathing ragged, each nibble bringing again another tide of orgasmic crescendo’s that this time never seemed to dissipate, the release becoming the torment. Pelvis thrashed madly, pumping vigorously against the fleshy column of her Lord and Master, and despite experiencing every feat and surmount of his wrath, her body breaking under the strain... Xantlicia craved him more. It was like being electrocuted with bliss, and she could feel every sensation individually.
Sensations just continued unceasing. Time ceased to matter... minutes, hours, days, Xantlicia couldn't tell, didn’t particularly care not even as a searing white pain stabbed behind her eyes. Consciousness began to strobe... microseconds of nonawareness; disoriented by the thick musky pheromones that filled the air in this chamber, even while visuals had them both cast, ‘ridding’ on the back of a monolithic leviathan, caught in the throes of passion and unbridled surrender. Through the nexus of nerves, accepting the gifts of potent liberations... and with the offering of his seed unto the petals of the flower she glistened then like the moonlight on amaranthine. Arms and legs moved to wrap around the muscular structure of his form at the direction of his gesture, seeking something solid to hold, something to brace against which indeed was the perfect structure of his torso.
Eyes in a glazy smoulder, entrapped with spellbound fire, with the tempests and fanes inner desire, glowing now with a balefire hellish green. Portraying his intoxicating divine image within the glass-like surface like many of the hulls of the UAR armada’s displayed with pride, reverence and devotion. Razored teeth clamping hard on her lower lip, drawing forth the black ichors of her blood as tongue licked across hungrily, looking upon his body towering over her’s while she writhed beneath him as they made their union and she her degree on the choirs of her guttural screams before the sensual begs began at his dominant request to do so. “Master...” the sweetness of the siren sung over the spurs of the ecstatic echoes of orgasmic symphony, “Please bestow upon me your gift, so that my body remains pure for you.” Cooing like an amorous dove, or the haunting enchantments of the nightingale.
Twixt the thrusts and the moans... the sight of the spike, heightening the wantonness, all restraint gone and only the liberation of the soul... breeching over the threshold of the submissive to the slut. “Myyyyyy Masterrrrrrr, ourrrrr belovedddddd 'Celestial Luminary' above all othersssss...” More gasps escaping over blood-stained lips, the begging and pleading bringing forth other tides of salutations and declarations of wants but always complying with his iron-fist and will, “Pleaseeee let me be pure for you. I wish to please no other, only youuuuu! Yourrrrr slut, no otherssss... no one else'sssss” Hands rising to trace the crystalline beads of sweat that tarnished his perfections. Eyes staring directly into his, suggesting that it wasn’t just empty words asking due to the prompt of command, but instead, allowing the sentiment of true ‘want’ to show him.... that is what she wanted, body, heart and essence.
The restraints surrounding limbs, was only an added stimulant to each and every sensation that flooded and assailed; the firm grasp around throat stifled any outlet of inhalation or exhalation. It burned within the lungs, asphyxia of breath caused orgasmic contractions to tighten around his hardened limb in sporadic clenches and releases. Tendrils swept over her ravishing physique, some stroking upwards and around Lao’Taun’s own muscle, flicking against hot flesh like a giant tongue leaving the wettest trail. Others smaller anemone-like florets stimulating the erected rose-bud of her clitoris, stopping to gently suck upon it then slap against it inciting a mild sting that made her scream and beg for more. As too with the tendrils like flickered and danced across the tautness of his rear passage—non-bulbous, tenderly rubbing up against his prostate.
Reddened welts appearing over arms and legs, spreading over flesh like a hungry fire starting on the edge of her tastebuds to everywhere on Xantlicia’s body that sweat is now dripping and falling over the horizons and edges of limbs to the crown of her focused brow. Temperature continuously rising, feeding upon itself, heat ascending from the narcotic state, inspired by the toxins and poisons of her beloved master. Breathing ragged, each nibble bringing again another tide of orgasmic crescendo’s that this time never seemed to dissipate, the release becoming the torment. Pelvis thrashed madly, pumping vigorously against the fleshy column of her Lord and Master, and despite experiencing every feat and surmount of his wrath, her body breaking under the strain... Xantlicia craved him more. It was like being electrocuted with bliss, and she could feel every sensation individually.
Sensations just continued unceasing. Time ceased to matter... minutes, hours, days, Xantlicia couldn't tell, didn’t particularly care not even as a searing white pain stabbed behind her eyes. Consciousness began to strobe... microseconds of nonawareness; disoriented by the thick musky pheromones that filled the air in this chamber, even while visuals had them both cast, ‘ridding’ on the back of a monolithic leviathan, caught in the throes of passion and unbridled surrender. Through the nexus of nerves, accepting the gifts of potent liberations... and with the offering of his seed unto the petals of the flower she glistened then like the moonlight on amaranthine. Arms and legs moved to wrap around the muscular structure of his form at the direction of his gesture, seeking something solid to hold, something to brace against which indeed was the perfect structure of his torso.
Eyes in a glazy smoulder, entrapped with spellbound fire, with the tempests and fanes inner desire, glowing now with a balefire hellish green. Portraying his intoxicating divine image within the glass-like surface like many of the hulls of the UAR armada’s displayed with pride, reverence and devotion. Razored teeth clamping hard on her lower lip, drawing forth the black ichors of her blood as tongue licked across hungrily, looking upon his body towering over her’s while she writhed beneath him as they made their union and she her degree on the choirs of her guttural screams before the sensual begs began at his dominant request to do so. “Master...” the sweetness of the siren sung over the spurs of the ecstatic echoes of orgasmic symphony, “Please bestow upon me your gift, so that my body remains pure for you.” Cooing like an amorous dove, or the haunting enchantments of the nightingale.
Twixt the thrusts and the moans... the sight of the spike, heightening the wantonness, all restraint gone and only the liberation of the soul... breeching over the threshold of the submissive to the slut. “Myyyyyy Masterrrrrrr, ourrrrr belovedddddd 'Celestial Luminary' above all othersssss...” More gasps escaping over blood-stained lips, the begging and pleading bringing forth other tides of salutations and declarations of wants but always complying with his iron-fist and will, “Pleaseeee let me be pure for you. I wish to please no other, only youuuuu! Yourrrrr slut, no otherssss... no one else'sssss” Hands rising to trace the crystalline beads of sweat that tarnished his perfections. Eyes staring directly into his, suggesting that it wasn’t just empty words asking due to the prompt of command, but instead, allowing the sentiment of true ‘want’ to show him.... that is what she wanted, body, heart and essence.
OOC
Credits:
Thank you to my dearest of hearts, Lao'Taun aka Drew. It was certainly a different style of writing that I am accustomed to. To say the very least. Always good to mix things up and always try new angles. It was a pleasure to write and certainly attracted a lot of view. Love and hearts to you always.